


An Echo Of Destiny

by ElephantCactus



Series: The Idyllic Sorrows of Our Lives [1]
Category: My Chemical Romance
Genre: Blood and Injury, Dreams and Nightmares, Dystopia, Escape, Everyone Needs A Hug, Gay, Hell, Homophobia, I Wrote This Instead of Sleeping, M/M, Memories, Memory Loss, Mind Control, Mind Manipulation, On the Run, Prequel, Purgatory, Superpowers, Telepathy, Trapped, Violence, Yes I am addicted to writing, alternative universe, no i can't stop
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-10-25
Updated: 2021-01-31
Packaged: 2021-03-09 03:48:12
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 95
Words: 108,264
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27187510
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ElephantCactus/pseuds/ElephantCactus
Summary: One year ago, strange abilities lit up across the world. Six months later, the Afflicted were suddenly turned on by family and friends, left to be taken away to Facilities.Now, three months after, Gerard is one of the Afflicted and he's going to escape from the Facility. He has to, that was the promise that he made before he was taken, one that he refuses to break. Now, the only question for him, is how? The outlook seems bleak. But he can't spend forever trapped.Frank, a new arrival at the Facility, has no hope left. He's been sent to an uncertain fate, but he's not even certain if he cares. What's the point anyway?Maybe it's accident, maybe it's destiny. But somehow, the other happens to be the answer to their question.© 2020 ElephantCactus. All rights reserved.
Relationships: Frank Iero/Gerard Way
Series: The Idyllic Sorrows of Our Lives [1]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1923076
Comments: 241
Kudos: 60





	1. A Light To Burn All Empires

**Author's Note:**

> Hello, I hope you enjoy this! Feel free to leave comments and kudos! It would mean a lot to me if you did. This is also on Wattpad under the same name.

# Part 1: Locked Inside An Echo

### Location: The Facility 001A in Room 1  
Time: 14:02  
Subject: M-07, M-74

#### Frank

The rattling of chains fills the air as the truck jolts over the next bump. Frank shifts his position, trying to get more comfortable from where he’s leaning against the wall. The back of the truck is uncomfortably hot, the stench of something rotting fills the air. But he knows better than to open his mouth and complain. Instead he tries to close his eyes, pretending he’s in his room at home.

He’s glad that the guards have their backs to him so they don’t see him cry. A tear rolls down his cheek, streaking a trail in the blood and dirt covering his face. His head throbs in pain, from where it slammed against the marble earlier. How did he end up like this? All the secrets he tried to hide came crashing down on him in one day. He worked so hard to keep everything a secret: afterall, shielding was his power. But someone found out and someone told.

He tries to forget the expressions on the faces of his parents. The horror and betrayal etched onto their every feature. As much as he wants to hate them, he can’t. They hate every bone in his body, hate him for being what he is, but he can’t exactly blame him, can he? He’s a freak, a monster, a demon, in their eyes and in the eyes of the world.

Frank tries to reach up, brushing his tear away, forgetting for a moment about the restraints. The metal digs into his wrists, making him wince as the chain is pulled taunt. He sighs, giving up, letting his hands rest back in his lap. There’s no use anyway, more tears will fall, he knows this.

He has no clue where they’re taking him. As far as he knows, probably to his death. That’s what they said on the news at least, that people like him were going to be taken away and were never going to be seen again. The dangers to society would be taken away to keep everyone else safe. They claimed that they could cure them, but Frank highly doubts it. There isn’t a cure, isn’t a way out. He is who he is. There’s no way that can change.

Maybe he should try to escape. Frank thinks about it as the drive drags on and on. He could bust out of here, make a daring escape into the wilderness and run. But then what? Hopelessness fills him as he realizes that there is no where for him to go. His parents don’t want him. No one does. Even if they didn’t chase him and recapture him, where would he go? He’d be alone, the worst punishment in his opinion. So he resigns himself to sit there, staring at the tiny cracks in the metal paneling on the walls of the truck. Through them, he can see tiny hints of light, hints of the scenery as it whizzes by.

He smells the sharp smell of gasoline as the trunk stops briefly, the change in movement throwing him forward. Frank winces as the handcuffs dig into his wrists again. He’s not sure why they even bothered to chain him up. If he tried to escape, the guards would just shoot him. That’s why there are three of them back here with him, after all. They warned him before he got in. Any sign of using his powers and he was dead in an instant. He doesn’t doubt that they will. Frank has seen enough of the hatred of people like him already. He’s seen the murders, seen the riots. Even if they did let him go, he probably wouldn’t last a day before his name was added to the list of justice.

The truck starts to move again, rolling along but at a slower pace. Frank can hear the crunch of tires on gravel as they turn onto a bumpier road, the movement making him grit his teeth. He tries to keep himself steady, preventing his head from hitting the wall as the truck screeches to a halt. A door slams up front and Frank struggles to straighten his back, just like he was taught when he was younger. Keep your head high, his mother would always say. He almost laughs, letting himself slouch again. Like he cares what his mother thinks now, after she’s sent him to his doom.

Frank winces as the doors are thrown open, the bright sunlight filtering into the dark back of the truck. The guards hop out as someone else climbs into the truck. He can’t see who though, as he’s pulled to his feet, his hands still chained together. As he’s ushed into the building, he catches a glimpse of the wide, barren yard stretching around him, surrounded by high barbed wire fences, forests and mountains stretching out behind.

The building itself is a monochromatic gray, the sight of it makes Frank want to flee. Guards patrol the sides, guns at their sides. He ducks his head, feeling the stares boring into his back, some of them curious, others hostile and menacing.

For a moment, Frank hesitates. He wonders if he should run for it. Throw up one of his shields and sprint. Even if he didn’t manage to get out of the gates, it would at least mean that he tried. It’s not like him to do this, surrender without a fight. But it’s like the energy has gone out of him, the enthusiasm drained out as soon as his parents said the hated words that night. There’s no point in fighting, so he lets them lead him toward the building.

“Home sweet home,” he mutters to himself as he steps inside, fully knowing it means he will never see the daylight again.


	2. Come One, Come All To This Tragic Affair

#### Gerard 

Honestly, there is nothing to do. Gerard stares at the wall for the last time, trying to figure out if the dot on the wall is actually moving or not. It could be a bug—there was one of those pesky insects flying around last night when he tried to sleep. He shifts, trying to get more comfortable, but there is really no use. 

He taps his fingers against his leg in a steady rhythm, humming quietly to himself. The quiet melody echoes through the room. No, it’s definitely a bug, he can see it now. The pesky brat takes off into the air, buzzing in the fluorescent light again. Gerard sighs, the bed creaking as he sits up, swinging his legs over the side. 

Gerard tries to stretch his powers. Imagining tiny wires spreading through the air, he senses for the minds of others. If he were anywhere else, he would hate doing this but at this point this is his only amusement. Hearing the other voices, even if they all are in someone else’s mind, is the only thing keeping him sane right now. There’s a dull murmur to his left, right through the wall, some quiet laughs echoing in the dark space as he closes his eyes. 

It’s like seeing an aura of color. He sees the dull yellow and gray of boredom resonating through most of the guards minds. The occasional pop of forest green frustration and flaming red anger. That’s something that’s always been good about his abilities. The colors are beautiful, quite extraordinarily so. Everything else can be good or bad depending on the day. Gerard can’t decide whether to hate them or love them. He’s getting better at blocking out the constant buzz and noise from others thoughts. At first, it felt like an invasion of privacy. Oh well. It is too late for him to stop now. 

Gerard watches the images of family, of the outside of the Facility through the eyes of others. Longing sweeps through him as he sees the sun shining and the baby blue of the sky, so similar to the optimistic thoughts of a child. He misses the outdoors, misses the feeling of wind brushing against his skin. 

It’s quite lonely. Other than the thoughts of the guards, Gerard knows he is alone. He would read Mr. Styles, but the man shields exceptionally well. Gerard shakes his head, sighing. He’ll try at some point. Once he gets over his fear of being found out and gets over the guilt of reading someone else’s mind. 

He could hypothetically escape. Maybe if he tugs on the right invisible wire connecting all other minds to his. If he twists the right guard's mind into unlocking the door, he will be free. But there are two issues with that solution. First of all, it would not be long before another guard noticed. Gerard knows that he can’t mess with that many minds at once. Even fully controlling one is near to impossible—well, that’s not completely true. He laughs to himself at the memory. Most minds are strong willed, though some are pliable and easily molded. Tends to be the close minded people, Gerard thinks with a chuckle. Especially the homophobic or racist assholes. Secondly, Gerard can’t stop bullets. Some other guard would just see him and shoot him on the spot. 

But is there really anywhere to go? Say he did escape. Where would he go? He already knows that they will do anything to try to keep him here, he’s seen it in their minds. Even if Gerard did find him again, then what would happen when the guards finally caught up? 

Gerard knows that they will pursue him to the ends of the world, and even beyond that if they have to. Second, is there really anything out there for him? He is a freak, after all, not human like everyone else. In some ways, he thinks dryly, remembering the attacks and the panic that followed, maybe he does deserve to be locked up. He and any others that are left, if there are any. Gerard shivers at the memory, the few others that had been caught. Maybe he is lucky, to have been taken to the Facility. It is better than being strung up in a tree, left to float there in the wind, tethered by only a line. As terrible as it is in the suffocating gray walls, he’s pretty sure suffocating on smoke and the stench of burning flesh is worse. So maybe he should push escape to the side. Let the world quiet down for a while, let them forget all that happened. Maybe then he could live again. But his promise hangs in his mind, words spoken in the suddenness of the moment. _I’ll see you again._ No matter the risks, he knows that this is the one promise that he will not break. 

Maybe they will fix him, turn him normal again. They promised to after all, a thinly veiled promise covering up their true intent. He’s not stupid enough to believe that they can actually fix him, he knows that it’s all a lie. They have no intentions of doing so, not yet at least. Right now, they are trying to figure out what they are dealing with, also known as, trying to figure out what the hell he is. But still, a part of him argues. Give it a chance, it seems to say. What if they do fix him? It’s lonely, being the only one of his kind alive in the world, or at least he assumes so. Maybe letting them turn him human again would not be the worst. 

But that is all about to change as the door swung open and a boy is pushed in, one that Gerard surprisingly recognizes.


	3. Undeserving Of Your Sympathy

#### Frank

##### (Three months ago)

He hated it. He hated every second of it. Every second felt like hell on earth, and that was saying something, considering he was in a church. The wooden pew dug into his back as he shifted, trying to get comfortable, earning himself a hard glare from the nun sitting at the end of the row. Dropping his gaze, he stared at the worn wooden floor. It was way too hot in the church, the air stifling and sweltering. He felt like he was suffocating, like there were hands wrapped around his throat. Maybe there were. If he just got up and ran, would they stop him? It wouldn’t be the first time he got into trouble, but the detentions really sucked. If he had to write down the words _Through work, I will be led to God. Through myself, I will be lead to the Savior_ , he thought he might just snap. 

Frank sighed, picking at the sleeves of his worn, old uniform. The fabric was scratchy against his skin. He pulled at another thread, watching it unravel. How much time could be left in this block? The minutes dragged on and on as the priest droned on and on and on. It seemed like hours had passed at this point. He wanted to stand up and scream something before running out, but sadly, he managed to refrain from doing so. 

In the span of two years, he had ended up with sixteen detentions and two suspensions. But they somehow still refused to kick him out. The worst one though, was probably when he walked out in the middle of a lecture denouncing gay people, barely refraining from punching the teacher. 

Frank always knew that he wasn’t straight. That much was really obvious. Yeah, he liked girls, but he also liked boys too. From pretty early on, he knew that he wasn’t going to be the good, Catholic schoolboy that his parents wanted him to be. He wasn’t supposed to be the way that he was. Boys didn’t like boys. Or they weren’t supposed to, but he did. He didn’t give a shit about God, not really, anyway. 

But for some reason, like most people are, he was still afraid of going to hell. 

Wasn’t everyone though? No one knew what would happen after death. What if it actually existed? What if he really was condemned forever for the simple action of being alive? A part of him was terrified that he actually would be forced to be surrounded by flames and sulfur for all of eternity. As much as he pretended not to care, it still worried him.

It was stupid, he knew it. There was no reason too—after death there was nothing, nothing he would experience anyway. But what if? That was the question that remained in his mind, haunting him as he decided what to do. He hated feeling this way. Others seemed content going on their day to day, unafraid of what might happen to them. Frank found himself staring at the gay couple on the train, knowing how creepy he must look, but unable to tear his eyes away. They probably thought he was some gross homophobe, though it was quite the opposite. How were they so brave? So open, so willing to put themselves at risk? He was teased anyway, the word thrown around like an insult. If only they knew how true it rang. But no one could know. Not his parents, not even his friends, if he wanted to stay alive and to have a roof over his head. 

So he forced himself to listen to the pastor, tucking his secrets away. He could last for a bit longer, if he made himself. Maybe this would fix him. This could absolve him of all his sins. And if the afterlife did turn out to be true, maybe, just maybe he wouldn’t end up so low in the circles. If he could change the way he thought, everything about him, maybe he wouldn’t be doomed for all of eternity. It couldn’t be that hard, right? Just change his brain, pull it out of his skull and fix it, as if it were a desk with a loose screw. If he just believed, maybe it would work. 

Besides, that wasn’t the only secret he had. If they knew about this one, liking boys would be the least of his worries. If they knew that he was actually the devil’s spawn, one of the freaks, they would actually kill him. He had no doubt about it. Yesterday, the students had led a prayer against the other kind. The freaks, the people like him. Ever since the Attack shook the nation, he had been terrified he would be found out. It was a tragedy, don’t get him wrong, he knew it. But he had also seen the lead pipe impaled through the girl’s head, her skin purple and swollen. After seeing the image on the news, he had thrown up, unable to stomach what he was seeing. Violence, against people like him. He had thrown up again afterwards, realizing what the verdict of the case—if you could even call that a case, was. He knew that he was destined to be just like that, his grotesque picture plastered on the TV screen while they labeled his murder as justice and his killers walked free, heads held high while he lay under the earth.


	4. Another Contusion, My Funeral Jag

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> TW: there is a slur. I do censor it 'cause personally, it makes me uncomfortable. But just so y'all know.

#### Gerard

##### (Two months ago)

Gerard sighed, stirring the spoon around in his mug. The mug warmed his frozen hands as he took a sip of the bitter, dark coffee. The TV flashed in the corner, but he tried to ignore it the best he could. It was always the same thing, some news reporter droning on and on about the fate of the world. 

He looked down at the piece of paper he’s sketching on before crumpling it up, adding it to the pile of discarded pieces in the corner. He tried to wipe some of the graphite off his hand to no avail as he sighed.   
“Another one?” Mikey asked, walking in.   
“Yep,” Gerard sighed. “I think I’m going to get some fresh air. You gonna be good here?”  
“Be careful,” Mikey warned. They both knew it. With the entire nation abuzz with fear, staying out of sight was the most important thing for Gerard to do. Granted, no one really knew about his abilities, but he feared someone would have seen. As much as he tried not to, he couldn’t help but slip into people’s minds sometimes. It was too enticing sometimes, a lure reaching out to yank him in. Even if he fought, some minds drew him in, trapping him inside. Gerard grimaced at the memories. Sometimes, the poor person would realize something was wrong and Gerard would nearly pass out from the pain of being thrown from someone’s mind. The headaches afterward were the worst, splitting pain from temple to temple that took days to clear. 

Gerard took a deep breath as he stepped outside, shutting the door behind him. He wrapped his coat tighter around him as he walked, keeping his head down. It was nice out, probably had been for the last few days. Not like Gerard knew. He hadn’t been outside in, what was it? Three days? Four days? Mikey had yelled at him to leave the house, but he just couldn’t bring himself to. It was school break. Not like he had to actually do anything. 

Gerard took a moment, standing in the center of the sidewalk. As usual, he could hear the bustling of thoughts as people brushed by him, absorbed in their own lives. Red frustration and anger radiated off the drivers of cars as they laid on their horns. As he passed the park, he could see the excited blues and yellows of the children’s minds as they ran to and fro. Gerard smiled to himself before continuing on. 

He headed down the sidewalk, kicking at some acorns as he went. It’s so nice outside that he’s reluctant to leave the sunny weather and return inside, but he does anyway, leaning against the wall of the elevator. 

As soon as his hand touched the doorknob, he knew that something was wrong. Gerard glanced around, casting his senses out, but he couldn’t see anything abnormal. He shrugged as he pushed the door open. It was probably just his nerves.

A hand grabbed his arm, practically making him jump out of his skin. It was only Mikey though, who slammed the door shut after Gerard, peering anxiously out the window.  
“What’s wrong?” Gerard asked.  
Mikey’s face was pale as he turned back toward Gerard. He held up in his hand, a small piece of notebook paper.   
“This,” he whispered. “Gee—I—”  
Gerard took it wordlessly from him, skimming over the small, cramped handwriting. 

_WE kNow bout U_ , the paper read. _ThEir commIng For U, f*g. Run frEak._  
“They misspelled ‘they’re’ and ‘coming,’” Gerard remarked, crumpling up the paper. Whoever it was apparently didn’t have much of an education. That was pretty obvious, considering who they chose to be prejudice against. Who it was, Gerard wasn’t certain. Maybe an ex-friend of his, maybe a passerby who happened to notice his powers. It could honestly be anyone. There were a lot of people who disliked him in this town, for more than one reason.   
“It’ll be okay,” Gerard reassured Mikey, turning to his younger brother. Already, the wheels in his brain were spinning. The message had just arrived, meaning that he probably had around ten minutes, tops.   
“No, it won’t,” Mikey whispered. “First we lost Mom and Dad, now I’m going to lose you too.”  
Gerard felt a flash of guilt run through him as he pulled his brother into a hug. “It’s gonna be okay,” he said. “Go to Ray’s, tell him what happened. He’ll let you stay there, I asked him to. I’ll be okay. You’re going to be okay. I’ll see you again, I promise.”  
“Gee—”   
Gerard shook his head, cutting his younger brother off as he peered out the window. “You need to go,” he said. “I love you, Mikey. We’re going to be okay. They can’t know that you were with me.”  
Mikey hesitated, but a stern glance from Gerard sent him on his way. “Be careful,” Mikey said.   
“You too,” Gerard replied. “It’s going to be okay.”

Mikey nodded as he finally closed the door. Gerard waited until his footsteps retreated before sighing, leaning his head against the door. What to do now? He couldn’t run, if he did, the guards would inevitably go after Mikey. No. He had to cooperate, to let them take him away. At least until he was certain Mikey and Ray had enough time to disappear. 

So he settled for grabbing his mug of coffee, kicking back in his chair, putting his boots on the table. If Mikey were here, he would have scolded Gerard, the thought making a pang run through him. He grabbed a scrapped drawing, writing a small note to Mikey in the corner. _I’m going to be okay_ , he wrote. _I love you, Mikey. Be strong._

He folded the note, tucking it under the side of the closet door, where he knew only Mikey would see it. Gerard closed his eyes, hearing the screeching of tires in the parking lot. He took a deep breath, letting himself relax as the footsteps pounded up the staircase, drawing closer and closer. 

“You’re late,” he called out as the guards stepped into the room. “I’ve been waiting.”

With that, he brushed past the guards, leading them toward the waiting truck. He wasn’t going to be dragged toward his doom, no. He was going to walk with his head held high.


	5. Go And Try, You’ll Never Break Me

#### Frank

##### (Three months ago)

“Hey!”  
Frank flinched at the sound of the voice, cutting through the cold afternoon air. He pulled his hood up, shoving his hands in his pocket. He tried to ignore whoever was yelling at him. Whatever it was, it couldn’t be good. It was never good, when anyone singled him out. Frank picked up his pace, trying to get as far away as possible. Maybe they would just leave him alone this time. 

He had no such luck. When he was halfway around the block, a hand yanked him back by his hood. Frank stumbled backward, his hands scraping against the rough pavement as he fell. He looked up to see three boys looming over him.

“We were talking to you, freak,” Bob grabbed him, throwing him roughly backward.   
“Let me guess, you’re actually a f*ggot, aren’t you?” Bob sneered. “I saw how you reacted when they talked about the f*gs.”  
“Fuck you,” Frank spit, trying, and failing to get up.  
“Be careful, Bob,” one of the other boys taunted. “He might actually mean it.”  
Bob let go of him roughly, but not before the toe of a sneaker shoved into his ribs, making him gasp in pain. 

“Wow, guess what?” Frank looked up to see two other boys standing nearby. He didn’t recognize them though—they must have just appeared. Great, he thought. More people to beat me up. 

“Look at them, thinking they’re so great,” the first boy continued. “Oh, wow look at me. I’m homophobic. I’m so cool.” He rolled his eyes, still staring Bob down.   
Bob stared at him, squinting with tiny eyes. He was obviously confused. Frank had to stifle a laugh at the thought. No one had ever stood up to him before apparently.   
“They’re just too cowardly to see,” the other boy responded.   
“Let me guess,” the first boy laughed. He pointed to Bob. “Don’t want to admit it, do you? What, are you too scared that you might be gay?”  
“N-no,” Bob spluttered. “I don’t know what you—”  
The boy laughed. “Well,” he said slowly. “I wonder what they would do if I—” Before Frank could even blink, he pulled the other boy toward him, kissing him fully on the lips. 

A stunned silence fell over the street as the boys finally pulled away. Bob’s mouth was so wide open, he’d probably have to pick his jaw off of the concrete. Disgust flared in the eyes of the other boys as they backed away. 

“Fucking f*gs,” Bob yelled. He turned to the other boys. “Let’s get out of here.”  
Frank let out a relieved sigh as their footsteps faded away. He pushed himself to his feet, spitting out some blood from his cut lip. 

“Hey, are you okay?” Frank turned around at the sound of the voice. The first boy was standing there, the other one no where to be seen.   
“Yeah,” Frank said, brushing off his jeans. He’d be okay as soon as he had some time to clean himself off and got some ice.  
“I’m Gerard,” the boy said, holding out his hand.   
Frank stared at him, the realization hitting him. “Gerard?” he asked. “As in Gerard Way?”  
The boy—Gerard frowns. “Yeah, that’s me,” he said. “Do I know you?”   
Frank shook his head. “N-no,” he stuttered. “I probably just saw you around.” That wasn’t true. He knew Gerard, or more accurately, knew of him. Everyone said that he was dangerous, that he was secretly a demon in disguise. Frank was never sure what to believe when it came to his parents and the church though.   
“Cool,” Gerard grinned. “You go to Saint Peter’s?”  
Frank nodded, his face flushing. “Yeah,” he muttered.   
“How is it?” Gerard asked. “I’ve heard it’s—”  
“It’s fine.” Frank really didn’t want to discuss this with a random stranger, no matter how attractive the boy in front of him was. “Was that your boyfriend?” He looked for the other boy.  
“No,” Gerard shook his head. “Well, Bert’s just a friend. I’m straight actually. We just like pissing off homophobes.”  
Frank couldn’t help but grin at Gerard’s words. His grin quickly faded as he saw his mother out of the corner of his eye. If she saw him talking to Gerard Way of all people—panic rose inside of him. “Uh, thanks. I have to go.”  
“No problem.” Gerard looked mystified, rightfully so. “I’ll see you around?”  
Frank shook his head. “Don’t count on it.”

Gerard Way. Frank shook his head as he jogged home. Of course. Everyone knew about Gerard. Frank’s parents had lectured him, telling Frank to stay away from that kind of boy. Trouble. That’s what they called him. One of those… freaks. They had shied away from the word, the one that Bob and the other actually used to describe him. But Gerard was straight. He just had more guts than Frank did, to piss off homophobes even when he had nothing to hide. Frank had no way of knowing if the other rumors were true or not. Was Gerard actually insane, like his parents had said? The rumors had been deadly, terrifying. In a small town, at a catholic school, there really wasn’t anything to talk about besides whether there was or was not a demon posing as a high schooler. From what Frank had seen though, Gerard seemed normal. 

But maybe everyone was right about Gerard. Maybe all the rumors were right. Since Gerard disappeared a week later, gone without a trace. His family vanished too, gone as if they had never been there. And Frank was okay with that as the months passed by. The people said that Gerard, the dangerous boy was gone and that they were all safe again. Frank never thought he would see Gerard again, especially not in that kind of place, until he saw who was sitting in his cell.


	6. We Are All A Bunch Of Liars

#### Frank

As if this day couldn’t get any weirder. Frank is still trying to wrap his mind around the fact that this is his new life. His secret is out, everyone knows what he is now. Not like that matters anyway, because he’s pretty certain that he’s doomed to be here, whatever this place is, for all of eternity. But now, he’s standing in a cell of all places, staring at the boy who once saved his life. 

It’s probably been quite some time since the guards left, but neither of them makes a move, staring at each other.   
“Hi.” Gerard speaks first, startling Frank.   
“Hi,” Frank responds. He is unsure of what to do, exactly, his mind moving at million miles per second. This is the last place he expected to see Gerard. Actually, he didn’t expect to ever see Gerard again.   
“Do you remember me?” Gerard asks finally, trying to break the awkward silence. “I assume you do.”  
Frank nods. “Yeah,” he says. “How could I forget?” A smile tugs at the corner of his lips. “You saved my life.”  
Gerard smiles slightly. “I did, didn’t I?” he says. “But you looked like you were fending for yourself pretty well.”  
“Pretty well?” Frank snorts. “If you count getting beaten up as fending for myself, yeah.”  
Gerard grins. “Well luckily I was there to step in.”  
“So what happened?” Frank asks. “You just disappeared.”  
Gerard nods. “Well, I’m guessing we’re here for the same reason.”  
“You’re one of them too?”  
“So are you.” It’s not a question, but Frank still nods. “That’s why we’re here.”  
“What is this place?” Frank asks.   
Gerard shrugs. “Depends on who you ask. Correctional Facility. Somewhere where they will fix us. Prison. A place for us to die. Somewhere where we are studied. All the above.”  
“Do you really think that we can be fixed?” Frank asks.   
Gerard shifts, his gaze dropping down to the ground. Frank knows what he’s going to say before he even says it. “No,” Gerard responds at last. “No, I don’t believe so.”

Frank nods, still standing in the center of the room. Gerard is, well, different. He’s not sure what’s true and what’s not, after all of the rumors his parents had told him. What if it was all an act and Gerard’s just gonna murder him in the middle of the night? He’s only met him once, after all.

“You don’t have to be scared of me,” Gerard says, startling Frank. He stares at Gerard, confused. Did Gerard just read his mind? How was this possible? He thinks about his own powers, horror rising in him. Frank isn’t closed off about his emotions, quite the opposite actually, he wears them on his sleeve. But the few secrets that he does have, he guards them carefully and closely. The thought that the other person he’s stuck with, the person who may or may not be evil, can read his mind is just too much.   
“Yes,” Gerard responds simply. “Just like you have, whatever power you do, that’s mine.” He sees Frank’s horrified expression and quickly continues. “I won’t though, if you don’t want me to.”  
“Thanks,” Frank whispers, still shaking slightly.   
“I promise I’m not a murderer though,” Gerard grimaces at the notion. “Not everything you’ve heard about me is true.”  
Frank only nods, uncertain of what to say. Bit hard to take the word of someone for the truth, isn’t it?

The guards lead him and Gerard to the showers a few moments later. Frank is thankful for this, knowing that he must look terrible, covered in grime. He knows that his eyes must still be slightly swollen and puffy red, but he’s glad that Gerard doesn’t comment. He rubs his wrists, wincing as his hands brush over the chafed skin. Gerard glances over at him, then looks away quickly as he holds the door open to the bathroom. 

Frank mutters a thanks as he slips inside, shivering as the cold air hits his skin. He’s still jumpy around Gerard, unable to keep himself from flinching as the other boy brushes past him, throwing him a towel. Frank nearly drops it, his hands shaking as he follows Gerard. He hates being this nervous around people, but he can’t help but feel overexposed and revealed. 

Gerard seems to notice, of course he does, a slight crease appearing on his forehead as he turns away, shaking his head. Frank winces at the screech of the rings of the shower curtain as Gerard pulls it shut. He hesitates before heading toward the next stall. 

He feels so exposed, but he strips down anyway, washing the dirt and grime out of his hair. There’s a bruise forming on his cheekbone, he’s certain of it from the way the skin is tender from where the guards hit him. He examines the rest of the bruises littered across his body, turning a swollen black and purple already. They’re all painful reminders of what happened and what he is. 

When the water runs clean, he finally steps out, his teeth chattering. Gerard gives him an odd glance, but doesn’t say anything as they head back to the room. Frank is shivering so much, his wet hair clinging to the side of his face as he sits down on his bed. He has to put his head in his hands, his body shaking, not just from the cold, but also from the memories. His face heats up in embarrassment as he realizes that Gerard’s standing in front of him, his hand hovering above Frank’s head. 

“Are you okay?” Gerard asks softly. “Do you need anything?” Frank almost says something, but stops when he feels a gentle tug at the back of his mind, feeling himself relax, his fears fading away. At the same time, anger shoots through him.   
“Don’t do that,” he spits, surprised by his own ferocity. “Don’t fucking touch my mind!” His panic heightens in him, the knowledge washing over him. He’s not safe, his thoughts aren’t hidden anymore.   
Gerard just watches him, an indiscernible expression on his face. “Suit yourself,” he says simply.   
Frank collapses back on the bed, hiding his head in his arms, his shoulders shaking. Gerard leaves him alone, but Frank can still feel Gerard watching him from the other side of the room, unsure whether or not to comfort him. Frank’s unsure of whether he does want Gerard to comfort him or not. Some part of him longs for physical comfort, the other part screams for everyone to stay away. But Gerard doesn’t and Frank curls up on his side, closing his eyes, hoping for sleep to take him.


	7. A Stain That Never Comes Off

#### Frank

Sleep doesn't provide him any relief. In fact, it’s far from it. 

When Frank opens his eyes, he’s standing in a far too familiar basement, the one of his house. He shivers at the sight of it, the knowledge of the cold nights spent huddled next to the door fresh in his mind. As if in a trance, Frank crosses the room, kneeling down next to his usual spot. He traces the thin words carved into the wall, his name that he scraped once into the plaster out of sheer boredom. Frank presses his lips together as he stands up, suddenly jolted backward. 

He’s now standing waist deep in dark water, the liquid too thick, too slimy, too heavy from where it slides over his skin. The basement is dimly lit, the only source of light coming from the doorway glowing on the other side of the room. Frank tries to lift his hands, before he realizes that he can’t. Something is ensnared over his wrists, holding him down. He looks below the murky surface seeing tendrils tangled over his lower half, the sharp edges poking into his skin, drawing blood as they creep higher and higher. 

The walls are covered in grime, layers of it. Frank glances at them in horror, seeing the once white walls crawling with tendrils and vines, similar to the ones holding him down. He swallows the disgust bubbling in him as he glances down at the water. Is that a—no it can’t be. The body of a rat floats by, beady eyes staring up at him, pointy teeth bared as it is whisked away by the current. Something else brushed against his leg and he swallows a scream. 

There’s not even a sound, but Frank somehow knows to look up. Gerard stands in front of him, holding his hand out. He’s miraculously dry, kneeling above him. He doesn’t say a word, but he beckons Frank forward, coaxing him to reach up. 

Frank reaches his hand up, surprised to find he’s no longer ensnared, just before his dirt streaked hand touches Gerard’s pale one, he hesitates, for a split second. But it’s enough. Gerard’s eyes widen and he lunges forward, but Frank’s already falling backward, the murky water lapping over his chin as he struggles to keep himself above the surface. It’s too much though, the weight gripping him pulling him down, the darkness slipping over his eyelids until there’s nothing more. 

Frank jolts up in his bed, the blankets twisting around him. For a moment, he panics, scanning his unfamiliar surroundings, before he remembers. The Facility. The guards. Gerard. 

“Hey,” Gerard says softly. He’s sitting on the edge of Frank’s bed, watching him carefully. It’s dark in the room, the lights not on yet, but he can see Gerard’s features cast in the soft glow coming from the door. “Are you okay?” It’s obvious from the look in his eyes that he saw Frank’s dream. Frank nods wordlessly, anger blooming in his heart. It’s not Gerard’s fault, he knows that, that Gerard keeps glimpsing his memories, especially with his powers, but he still can’t help but feel uncomfortable and exposed. 

As the day drags on, he doesn’t even want to look at Gerard. The silence in the air is heavy, awkward as Frank stares at the ground, pretending it’s the most interesting thing. He doesn’t want to see the look of pity or of anger on Gerard’s face so he keeps his gaze fixated on the concrete. When Gerard tried to talk to him earlier, he ignored the attempt, still terrified of what might happen. 

Frank is terrified as the guards lead him down the hall to the Study Rooms. He clenches the thin fabric of his blue uniform in his sweaty hands, trying to calm himself down. Breathe, he tells himself. Four counts in, hold for four, then four out. Just like he was taught as a kid. But it does nothing to soothe his nerves. Frank doesn’t have much optimism for this place, rightly so. From the moment he stepped in, he knew it would be like the priests or teachers from his school. People pretending they know something when they’re just as clueless as the rest of them. 

He doesn’t exactly hate his powers; but he doesn’t particularly like them either. They’re just a reminder of his parents and his old life. How everything went to shit as he lost control of the two secrets, the two measly secrets that destroyed his life. He lets out a hollow laugh. Which one his parents were more disturbed by is a good question. By him being bisexual or having strange abnormal powers. Honestly they probably thought both were terrible and demonic and just downright horrifying. 

It’s just like in his nightmares. The worst fear he’s had for so long is being discovered. For others to treat him differently, to judge him based on what he was, not on who he was. His entire life, he spent hiding what he was. Now, everything was revealed. 

Frank doesn’t even notice he’s standing in the Study Room until someone gives a short cough. He glances up in surprise, seeing the white room, blue mats spread across the floor. Plastic contraptions are humming softly on his wrists, though he has no recollection of anyone putting them on. 

“M-74,” a voice says. Frank looks up, confused before he remembers. That’s who he is now. He swallows a bitter taste on his tongue.

“M-74,” the voice repeats, an edge to it this time. Frank looks over as a man walks into the room, dressed in a black suit. Frank remembers him from the first day, he was the head of something, wasn’t he? He looks familiar, he must have been on the news before. Frank’s not certain. He has a terrible memory of faces.

“Do you know what to do?” the man asks again.   
Frank’s eyes flicker down as he examines the floor with interest. “No, sir,” he says softly.   
“You’re going to show us your abilities,” the man says, an air of impatience around him. “Can you do that?”  
It isn’t really a question, Frank knows that. More of a thinly veiled threat. If this were back at school, he probably would have said some snarky retort that got him the reward of a stinging backhand. But he’s not at school, he’s somewhere where no one cares what they do to him. The priests couldn’t do absolutely anything in fear of retaliation from his parents, but here, no one cares, Frank realizes glumly. No one gives a shit about him. So he nods, keeping his eyes downcast. It’s easier than fighting anyway.


	8. I’m The One That You Loathe

####  Gerard 

It’s not easy to pretend, not easy to hide. Gerard sits there, keeping the forced blank expression on his face. It takes every ounce of control for him to follow their instructions without fighting back. His powers tremble inside of his mind, curling in a tight, tense ball of pent up energy. Gerard wants to let go, oh so badly. He would nearly give anything to throw his powers at them, make the guards crumple to the ground as if they were made of nothing but paper. He so wants to spit out the harsh retorts bubbling up inside of him. To fight back, just once, to show them that he’s strong, that he’s not broken. To prove to himself, not just them, that he won’t be crushed beneath the heel of a black boot. But he doesn’t. It’s best if they think he’s weak, he reasons, trying to placate himself. Easier to get out that way. 

Gerard’s only half-paying attention to the task at hand. The plastic contraptions dig into his temples, just a little too much. Gerard knows that there will be red welts there tomorrow, but he doesn’t complain, swallowing his retorts. He listens to the voice of the instruction, going through the movements like a robot, unaware of what he’s doing. It’s the same routine every day; they bring in someone, a poor person. Gerard’s not sure who it is, their face is always concealed from him, a bag over their head, a plastic shield separating them. As if looking upon their face is the worst crime, Gerard thinks to himself. He already is forced to see the deepest parts of their memories, their worst fears, every intimate thought inside their head. What worse could catching a glimpse of a face do? 

Today’s poor victim is shaking. Emotions are radiating off of them, so strongly that Gerard has to force himself not to recoil at the murky green fear and dark red terror coming off in waves. Gerard focuses on the smaller details of the person, forcing himself to prepare for the brunt of the impact. Like always, he can’t see other person’s face, a black bag situated tightly over their head, cinched at the neck. The person’s hands are tied in front of them, placed limply on their lap. White plastic restraints dig into their skin, cutting a bit too tightly into the circulation. Gerard notes grimly the small stature of the person, the slight shoulders and the small hands. He reaches out his powers, trying to soothe the other, sending out small waves of light blue comfort. _It’s okay,_ he coaxes. If they don’t fight, he’ll be able to control them better. 

Frank’s reaction flashes in his mind, sending guilt prickling through him. The way the other boy spat at him, fear and anger shooting off of him like shockwaves, before he curled in on himself. Gerard could sense how Frank desperately wanted to be comforted, yet he was terrified of any contact. 

Gerard pushes the thoughts of Frank away, focusing on the person in front of him. Already, they’ve grown more calm, relaxing slightly in the chair, the tense lines fading out of their posture. He pushes a bit more with his powers, feeling a headache building in his temples as the person goes limp, falling backwards. That’s all Gerard needs. 

Using just enough of his powers to give them a show, he reaches out the other half, probing the minds of other guards. He’ll sketch down the floorplan when he gets back to the room, marking down the locations of the security cameras and when the guard shifts are. There are so many, the numbers changing from day to day. The escape seems so daunting. Could he really? He doubts the likelihood of an actual escape. But it’s good information to know. He files it away in his mind, for the day that he does actually escape. 

He pulls his powers back just as the guard becomes alert. Gerard keeps his head down as someone speaks to him, though he’s not even listening at this point. He nods along when necessary, hearing his name—no, his number being called. It takes everything in him not to punch the man speaking. He has a name. Not a goddamn number. It doesn’t even mean anything, M-07? It has nothing to do with him. Not a single fucking thing to do with him. He is Gerard. Not a stupid number. 

It’s not like they don’t know his name. They just purposefully refuse to use it, and that somehow makes it worst. It’s as if they can break him down, break him into something less than human if they merely pretend that he’s not. He has no doubt that it could work. If you tell someone something enough times, they will eventually believe it, he knows that’s true. Even now, as much as Gerard fights back, he knows that the number will seep into his mind, crawling into the depths of his subconsciousness. He doesn’t want to, but he knows that he will always respond to the sound of it. Like a dog, trained to salivate at the sound of bells, he thinks bitterly to himself. I’ve become a Pavlovian experiment. 

Gerard is so lost in his thoughts that he doesn’t even realize he’s back in his room. He lets out a sigh, glancing around. Frank’s not back yet. He’s honestly not sure what to make of Frank. Last night, he was panicking, his emotions rolling like storm clouds toward Gerard. His memories flashed at the corner of Gerard’s mind, tempting him to step closer. It’s unusual for Gerard to not be able to block the memories, but Frank’s were just too strong. Gerard knows he overstepped, but he couldn’t help but try to comfort Frank. It only made it worse though. 

He has to admit curiosity does plague him. What exactly did happen to cause Frank to act so skittish around him? It’s not the rumors that used to be spread around the town about him, he knows that for a fact. No, it’s something to do with why he came in, a bruise blooming on his cheekbone, blood and grime streaked across his face. Something happened, something that Gerard wants to know, but he won’t probe. He knows how memories can be painful, he’s seen that for himself in so many other minds. But he respects Frank's privacy and his promise, so he won’t. It does hurt him to see Frank, or anyone, in pain, yet know he can’t do anything about it. 

Not like it will matter anyway, if he finally gets out. When, not if, he corrects himself. When he gets out.


	9. Blood Runs Down The Walls

#### Frank 

It’s not long before the blood starts to drip down the side of his face. He can smell the metallic tang of iron as it drips onto the blue mats beneath him, joining the previous disturbing stains. In front of him, the purple energy warbles, the field trembling and shaking as he struggles to hold his arms up. There’s a cramp in his shoulder as his arms waver, his muscles burning. Sweat drips down his forehead, his dark hair sticking to his forehead. He wants to reach up and wipe it away, but he can’t without losing concentration. Everything hurts, like really, really hurts. Tears prickle at the corners of his eyes as he blinks them away furiously. He wants to give in, but he wants to so, so badly. 

“Keep going,” the cold voice instructs. Frank desperately wants to snap back at whoever the fuck is saying that, but it takes every ounce of concentration to keep himself from collapsing. 

At last Frank sinks to the ground, spots dancing in front of his vision. Nausea bubbles up inside of him as the world spins around him. He heaves onto the floor but nothing comes out. The mat is slippery with his own blood and sweat as he presses his hands against it, trying to steady himself. He wills himself not to pass out. Passing out will only make it worse. 

Memories are seeping into the edges of his vision, as he struggles to stand. Sprinting through the cloister as the people chased him, the rain pouring off the roof, obscuring him from view. Seeing the vans pull up to the door. His sneakers squeaking against the cold stone tiles as he ran for the sanctuary, his fingers grasping the cold marble of the altar. He had never been religious, never truly believed in the lies, but he hoped that they would honor the tradition, fearing the wrath of God. Obviously they didn’t care, too intent on their hatred of him to care about the idol they so fervently praised. Hands wrap around his waist, yanking him backward as he thrashes. His head snaps back against the marble, spots dancing in front of his vision as warm blood trickles down through his hair. 

He’s panicking now, struggling against more invisible hands as they grasp at his arms, pinning him down. Pain blooms across his cheek, sharp and fast as he shrinks away from his father, tears welling in his eyes. He coughs out a mouthful of blood as his lip catches on the edge of his teeth, tearing the soft skin. Metal clangs as he’s dragged backwards, toward the truck as the engine roars, mud splattering across his clothes, joining the smears of dark blood. 

Frank lets out a strangled cry as a hand, a real one grasps his right arm. He twists frantically, trying to get out of his captors’ grip, but another one grabs his other arm, dragging him. Tears are pouring down his face as he trembles, unsure of what’s real and what’s not. Spots are dancing in front of his vision, his whole body going hot and cold. His heartbeat thrums in his ears, too loud and too fast, his breaths coming in gasps. In the corner of his vision, he sees a doorway, but he’s unsure if it’s the door to his room or the arched door of the church. 

Cold water splashes onto his face, making him gasp. Frank coughs, blinking as he struggles to sit up from the floor. The world spins around him, causing him to collapse backward again, landing hard on his elbows on the hard concrete floor.   
“Careful,” someone mutters, directly to his left. Frank crans his neck, trying to see who it is. He should recognize whoever it is, he knows that, but he can’t think of anything as darkness presses in on the edges of his vision.   
“That’s it,” someone whispers. “Relax. You’re okay now.” Frank finds himself trusting whoever it is wholeheartedly as he drifts off into unconsciousness. 

~&~&~&~&~

It’s cold when Frank wakes. He shivers, drawing his knees closer to his chest as he huddles under the thin blankets. Frank stares at the wall in front of him, examining the rough concrete. 

When he sits up, one of the blankets tumbles to the ground. He stares at in confusion before he glances to the other side of the room. Gerard is asleep on his own bed, half-curled on his side, his dark hair falling into his face. Frank glances down at the blanket, then at Gerard again, warmth blooming in his heart. He stands up gingerly, holding the bed for support until he finds stable footing. Crossing the room silently, he tucks the blanket that Gerard gave to him back around its owner. 

Gerard shifts instantly, his hand grabbing Frank’s. Frank freezes staring at him in alarm, caught in the act.   
“Hey,” Gerard says softly. He glances down at the blanket now wrapped around him. “I was worried that you would be cold. You were shaking.”  
“I—” Frank doesn’t seem to be able to tear his gaze away. “Uh, I’m fine now. Thanks.”  
Gerard smiles at him, nice and easy. “No problem,” he responds. “Are you okay?”  
Frank nods quickly, plastering a smile to his face. “Yeah,” he says brightly, a bit too brightly, he notes seeing Gerard study him. “I’m fine.” He’s always been a really terrible liar.   
Gerard watches him for a few more moments, not saying a word.  
“I’m really—yeah, I’m—” Frank shuts his mouth after a few moments, knowing that he really can’t convince Gerard otherwise.   
“Soon,” Gerard says, a bit absentmindedly. “You won’t have to—” He seems to come to his senses, snapping his mouth shut.   
“To what?” Frank asks, a chill running down his spine.   
“Nothing,” Gerard mutters. He clears his throat, meeting Frank’s gaze. “It’s nothing.”

Frank stands there for a few moments longer, unsure of what to think. It was a blatant lie, but Frank has no clue what Gerard was going to say. He realizes Gerard is still holding onto his wrist, his face flushing. He tugs it away slightly, Gerard letting go instantly as he realizes.   
“Sorry,” Frank mumbles, embarrassed. He’s not quite sure what he’s apologizing for, the trouble he caused last night, or for anything else.   
“What for?” Gerard asks. When Frank shrugs, finally looking away, Gerard grabs his hand again, forcing Frank to look at him. “Don’t be, okay?” His voice is softer now. “You have nothing to be sorry for.”

Frank can’t help but tense at the words. He’d bet that Gerard saw his memories last night. Not that it was his fault, just that the memories were so strong and overwhelming, what must it have been to a mind reader? Gerard doesn’t say anything, finally letting go of Frank. Frank is glad for it as he lies back down on his bed. Gerard respects his boundaries, something that he didn’t think he would be able to get with a mind reader as a roommate. 

Frank knows he’s hiding a lot from Gerard. The few glimpses that Gerard has caught surely couldn’t have told him the full story. But Gerard’s hiding things too, Frank’s certain of it. What, though, he’s not quite certain.


	10. There’s A Place In The Dark Where The Animals Go

#### Gerard

The entire night, Gerard is unsettled. Thoroughly unsettled, that is. He can’t help but glance over at Frank every so often, in fact, he probably spends most of the night watching him. Never before has he experienced emotions that strong or memories that overwhelming. Getting just a glimpse of Frank’s mind doesn’t satisfy his abilities. No, they crave it more, wanting to see what happened. Gerard doesn’t let them though, he’s not that kind of person. He won’t intrude on Frank’s thoughts and memories, no matter how much the forces in his head want him to. He’s stronger than they are. He won’t let them control him. Gerard controls them, they don’t control him. 

Anyway, there are more important things to think about. He slipped up. Badly. Gerard curses himself as he thinks back to it. It just came out. He didn’t mean for it to, just in the moment, he had wanted to promise Frank that they would get out. He had just wanted to comfort Frank and the words had slipped out. _Soon._ That’s one promise that he doesn’t want to make, because he knows how slim the chances are. 

Why doesn’t he tell Frank? Gerard puzzles through this as he sits on his bed. He does trust Frank, at least to some extent. Enough to know that Frank wouldn’t rat him out to the guards. Anyway, Frank could be useful, with his powers and all. From what Gerard has seen, Frank has some sort of shielding or force field power. It could be helpful, depending on Frank’s level of control. With his help, Gerard knows that they might actually stand a chance. 

Still, he hesitates, the words on the tip of his tongue. He knows Frank is growing suspicious, eyeing him thoughtfully from across the room. It’s only a matter of time before he finds the papers stashed under Gerard’s mattress and sees the plan and knows. 

Frank’s already back in the room by the time Gerard slips in, back from the Study rooms. Frank’s knees are drawn to his chest as he rocks back and forth, staring at the ground in front of him. He’s completely oblivious to the fact that Gerard is standing there, watching him. He looks like he’s deep in thought, an aura of blue and purple around him. As he notices Gerard, it shifts suddenly, turning to a bright orange that startles Gerard. The look that Frank is giving him is equal parts hurt and concentrated, glimmers of confusion in his mind. 

“You’re going to escape, aren’t you?” Frank asks, his words cutting through the air. Gerard nearly jumps out of his skin at the words.  
“What are you talking about?” he asks, trying to calm his nerves. He reaches out to Frank’s mind, feeling the rising pale yellow dread and orange suspicion.  
“Don’t lie to me,” Frank snorts. “I may not be a mind reader but I can read people’s actions well enough. I’ve always had to. How do you think I hid what I was for so long?”  
“I don’t know what kind of game you’re playing—” Gerard starts, hoping to subvert some of the accusations. He stands up, glaring at Frank as he does so. Frank shrinks back slightly, taking a step so his back hits the wall. “But if you think for one second—”  
“Look,” Frank says, obviously uncomfortable. “I know you don’t trust me very much, but I can help you. You’re telepathic, I can create shields and block bullets. We can both help each other.”  
“You want to get out of here?” Gerard asks.  
“Of course,” Frank answers. “Why wouldn’t I?” His gaze drops briefly, but he’s staring back at Gerard a moment later There’s something that he’s hiding, something that Gerard can’t quite tell. Even without reading his mind, Gerard can tell that something is wrong, that something happened. Frank is shaking slightly, even as he stares at Gerard in defiance. Surprisingly, something stirs inside of Gerard, pity, yes, but also admiration. God knows Gerard’s not an open book, far from one, yet his strange interest in the boy piques even more.

There’s just something different about him, different than all the other minds Gerard has ever touched. Maybe it has something to do with the fact that Frank is the first person like him he’s ever met. Or maybe it’s something else. Gerard surely doesn’t know. 

“So?” Frank asks. He squirms slightly and Gerard realizes that he’s been scrutinizing him, staring for the past few minutes.  
“Yeah,” Gerard answers at last. “Okay.”  
Frank blinks, perhaps surprised at his sudden change in demeanor. “Okay,” he echoes.  
“I just need to make a few things clear with you,” Gerard says, shifting back to his harsher tone. He pushes away the other thoughts, focusing on his task. “If we get separated or you get in trouble, I’m not coming back for you. If I get in trouble, I don’t expect you to come back either. We’ll help each other get out, then…” he trails off, unsure of what to say. Then what? His doubts creep back into his mind. What if there really isn’t any safety outside of these walls? What if they truly are safer here? “Then we’ll go our separate ways,” he finishes lamely.  
Frank nods. Gerard’s not sure if he catches a flash of violet uncertainty before it’s overtaken by dark blue determination. “Agreed,” he responds, shifting a bit from where he’s sitting. “So how are we going to do this?”  
Gerard sighs. That’s the question, isn’t it? How? Is there really any way to escape? He pushes the doubt away. There’s always a way, he thinks to himself. Even if there isn’t, we will make one of our own.


	11. Run Away, Like It Was Yesterday

#### Frank

They start planning right away, with not a minute to lose. Gerard fills Frank in on all of his research and plans. The two of them find mistakes, everything that could go wrong. They make backup plans and backup plans for those plans until Frank’s head is swimming with the different routes they could take. 

He’s still uncertain if Gerard wants him along, but Gerard’s at least being more friendly toward him. They’re stuck together, if they want to escape, so he guesses that Gerard’s just trying to put up with him. 

But as time passes, Frank starts to get more comfortable with it. Gerard seems to warm up to him a bit as the two of them talk to pass the time. There’s nothing else to do. Having another person to talk to is a relief, Frank has to admit. There’s a lot Frank doesn’t tell Gerard and doesn’t want to talk about and he’s certain Gerard feels the same way about his own past. So they avoid the topic, making small talk instead. They talk about everything and nothing, what day they think it is, when their birthdays are, favorite colors, until there’s nothing left to discuss. Nothing meaningful anyway. 

In the early hours of the morning, the two of them are sprawled on the floor amidst piles and piles of paper, reading in the beam of a flashlight that Frank stole from the guards. Gerard sketches out another leg of the plan while Frank scans through the other ones, memorizing and memorizing the rotations of guards. It’s tedious work, the different shifts blurring together in Frank’s mind after a few hours. He glances over to Gerard, seeing him focused intently, his tongue sticking slightly out of his mouth as he sketches. 

Frank sighs at last, dropping the paper. He stands up, stretching his cramped legs, feeling the blood flowing back into his limbs. Gerard glances up at him in surprise before he returns to his papers. How he has that long of an attention span, Frank has no clue. Frank’s already tired of this. 

“Do you believe in God?” Frank asks out of the blue.   
“God?” Gerard let out a mirthless laugh, not glancing up from the paper. “No.”  
“I’m supposed to,” Frank says. “I think at least.”  
“Do you?” Gerard finally looks up at him, dropping his pencil.   
“I’m not sure. I never really did. But I guess a part of me is scared that I’m going to hell,” Frank admits. “I mean, I was raised to believe in God and hell and everything.”  
“I think we’re already in hell,” Gerard points out, pulling himself into a sitting position. “It’s close enough, isn’t it? Maybe without all the fire. But how much worse can it get? We’re literally locked up.”  
He does have a point, Frank has to admit. Gerard nods, seemingly satisfied before he moves to return to his plans. 

“Are you gay?” Shit. The question slips out before he can stop it. Frank wants to slap himself. Why is he asking anyway? He doesn’t really care. Maybe he’s still curious, from the day long ago when Gerard saved his life.   
“I’m not,” Gerard says quickly. “I like girls…not...” he trails off looking awkwardly at Frank.   
“Yeah that’s cool,” Frank responds, his heart hammering in his chest. Why he’s so nervous, he doesn’t know. Is he disappointed by Gerard's response? Maybe, but why would he be?  
“I’m bi,” he says after a few moments. “I know it’s weird seeing I went to catholic school and all—”   
“No, that’s cool.” Gerard nods vigorously a few times.   
“It was just weird because here, I’m not afraid to admit it,” Frank sighs. “I mean, all of my secrets are out already.”  
“What’s the worst that could have happened?”  
“I was terrified that someone would find out. My parents would have killed me.”  
“Well they aren’t here anymore,” Gerard points out. “Our parents did leave us to die here, didn’t they? I think that’s the least of your worries.”  
“I guess so,” Frank mutters, looking away. 

The silence stretches on between them as Frank stares down at the plans and Gerard’s messy handwriting, but he’s not actually concentrating.   
“What’s with all the questions?” Gerard asks at last.  
Frank shrugs. “What else are we going to talk about?” He knows he’s won the argument because Gerard simply shrugs, looking off to the side.   
“You can ask one now, if you want,” Frank offers awkwardly. “I asked you some so it’s your turn.”

There is a pause, as if Gerard is considering his offer before he finally speaks. “Where are you going to go after we get out?” Gerard asks.   
Frank shrugs, swinging his legs back and forth. This has been the question he’s been avoiding. “I don’t know,” he says. “What about you?”  
“I have a younger brother,” Gerard responds. “I promised that I’d try to find him. I sent him to go into hiding with my friend. What about you? Do you have any family?”  
Frank shakes his head. “No,” he answers. “None that I want to go back to at least.” He thinks back to the day he was captured and winces.   
Gerard nods, looking sympathetic. “I’m sorry,” he says.   
“Don’t be,” Frank sighs. After all this time, why is he still upset over this? He’s still bothered by something that seems like it happened lifetimes ago. A stupid action by his parents and now it will haunt him forever.   
“It’s okay to be upset,” Gerard says. Frank flinches, startled. Did Gerard—   
“I’m not reading your mind,” Gerard holds up his hands. “You just look distressed.”  
Frank nods slowly, still not completely believing him. He feels tears prickle in the corner of his eyes and blinks rapidly, trying to stop himself from crying. He refuses to cry in front of Gerard, that would be so embarrassing. Instead, Frank ducks his head, pretending to stare at the plans again, his lip trembling as he forces his emotions down. 

Gerard suddenly moves closer to him. Frank tenses, but Gerard reaches over, pulling him into a hug. The sudden act of closeness startles Frank. He never would have guessed, not in a million years that Gerard would do this. Gerard doesn’t let go though, so Frank rests his head against Gerard’s shoulder, closing his eyes. It’s exactly the comfort he’s missed and craved for so long, and Gerard seems to know it.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> hey, yes i'm still here. sorry for the pause in updates, I've had a lot of stuff going on and haven't had the time to write.


	12. This Night, Walk The Dead

#### Frank

Maybe it’s just his imagination but Gerard seems to be more open to him It’s quite easy for the two of them to warm up to him. 

They talk a lot more, not just to pass the time. It seems as if there’s a genuine curiosity, a genuine spark of the possibility of friendship between them. The iciness between them seems to have dissipated. Frank finds himself laughing, truly laughing for the first time in a long time at a joke Gerard tells him. The walls of the Facility somehow seem less foreboding as he’s led to and from the Study rooms. For the first time, since coming here, he feels awake. Frank feels like himself again, thanks to Gerard. 

In between the trips to the Study room and showers, they have long hours to just talk and talk and talk. Sometimes they work on the plan. Gerard even manages to sneak them out of the room a few times, manipulating the minds of the guards into letting them out. Those nights, the thrill, the adrenaline of sneaking around makes Frank feel alive and whole. He can almost pretend that he’s sneaking around the dorm or the church, trying to evade the nuns, instead of hiding from the guards in a Facility. But it’s almost enough, crouching in the shadows with Gerard, holding his breath as the guards walk past, creeping into hidden supply closets and empty cells. It’s enough to see the moonlight shining in from the singular large window in one of the offices. It’s almost enough, the way that Gerard makes him laugh so loudly that he has to clamp his hand over his mouth to muffle the sounds. It’s almost enough to see Gerard climbing up onto the Director of the Facility’s desk or kick his scuffed up sneakers onto the pristine, spotless pages of paper. It’s almost enough for him, when his face flushes wildly, thankful for the cover of darkness as he watches Gerard, seeing his features illuminated in the moonlight as he smiles at Frank, blowing him a kiss before taking a bow. 

Lying in the room afterward is probably the best part. The two of them collapse side by side onto the floor, amidst fits of laughter as the adrenaline flows through them. Frank is shaking, from fear and from the thrill, but his face hurts from smiling, his stomach aching from laughing. 

“I can’t believe we almost got caught,” Gerard gasps. “He looked at us!”  
“That was your fault,” Frank protests. “You knocked the picture frame over.”  
“Was not,” Gerard argues. “That wasn’t why he looked over. It was because you were laughing.”  
“It definitely was part of the reason,” Frank defends himself. “Anyway I was only laughing because of you.”  
Gerard just grins at him, his face flushed red. “Well, I am a comedian,” he says, winking. It’s his expression that makes Frank break into a fit of laughter all over again. 

Other nights, the two of them stay in the room, talking all night when they should be asleep. Frank knows he’s going to be exhausted the next day, but he can’t stop, wanting to hear Gerard talk more and more. This time, there seems to be honesty in the answers, straightforwardness instead of dodging the tricky questions. They alternate, Gerard asking something, then Frank.

“So what’s your most embarrassing moment?” Gerard asks.   
“Oh, God,” Frank groans. “Really?”  
“You just teased me about being afraid of balloons,” Gerard pointed out. “I think I get to ask you this one.”  
“Don’t laugh, okay?” Frank asks.   
“I won’t,” Gerard replies, an almost comical look of seriousness on his face.   
“Probably when I puked in first grade,” Frank muses. “On the altar.” He glares at Gerard, who’s muffling his laughter. “You said you wouldn’t laugh.”  
“What did they say?” Gerard asks. “Did they thank God?”  
“I have no clue,” Frank groans. “I ran away and hid.”  
“Of course you did.”

As the night goes on, the questions become more and more serious and personal. Frank has to force himself to tell the truth, even though he wants to hide it away. It’s the most open he’s been in a long, long time, perhaps even in forever. Frank has to admit it’s strange for him, opening himself up to someone he, granted, doesn’t know very well. But in some ways, he feels as if Gerard knows him better than anyone else, perhaps even better than Frank’s own parents did. 

“When did you first figure out your powers?” Gerard asks.   
Frank shrugs. “Not a pleasant moment,” he mutters. “We almost got hit by a car, driving home one night. I saw the truck careening toward us and something clicked in my mind. Everyone said it was a miracle, that it was God saving us. And I wanted to be proud, but I just knew that they would have turned on me.” His voice trails off. “Sorry for going all depressing. I—”  
“It’s fine,” Gerard says. “Frankie, it’s okay.” The nickname makes him blush slightly.  
“What about you?”  
“Well, it was a bit hard to not realize,” Gerard replies. “At first I thought I was crazy. I was hearing things and seeing things, random voices. I would be walking down the hallway and hearing about some chemistry assignment, though I didn’t even take that class. It was probably after a few panic attacks and freak outs before I realized that the thoughts weren’t mine and were in other people’s heads.”  
“Did anyone know?”  
“Just my brother,” Gerard answers. “I’m assuming no one did for you?”  
“Not until the end,” Frank responds, unable to keep the hint of bitterness from his voice. “Your brother took it well?”  
“‘Course,” Gerard says. “He’s amazing. It’s always been the two of us against the world.”  
“Just you and your brother?” Frank wonders.   
Gerard nods. “Just us,” he confirms.   
“What about your parents?” Frank asks.  
Something seems to close off in Gerard’s expression because he looks away, all pretense of emotion gone, just a cold, blank stare. “They’re dead,” he answers.


	13. Another Knife In My Hands

#### Gerard

Gerard is no stranger to death. Death has shadowed him every day, following in his footsteps, haunting him. It takes and takes and takes, never giving back. He’s felt death breathe down his neck, the spine chilling frost making him shiver. Yet death refuses to touch him, instead reaching for those around him. 

He is terrified to trust anyone. Terrified to get close. Because inevitably, death will take anyone he loves. He’s been terrified for so long to feel anything. That’s the lesson that he learned, that fatal day. Nothing lasts forever. 

For so long, he’s wanted to not feel anything. To hide his true self from the world and pretend that everything was okay. It earned him a reputation as being dangerous, as being different. At some point, he didn’t care what they thought about him. Let them spread rumors of him murdering children or being just a freak in general. The more everyone hated him, the farther and farther away they got, the less it would hurt when death finally came for them. 

His brother was the only one who refused. At some points, Gerard honestly forgets that he was the older brother, not Mikey. Mikey was the one that got him up and running every day when all he wanted to do was bury his head in the covers and scream. It was because of Mikey that Gerard kept working, kept himself busy after the death of their parents. Because he knew that if he stopped, someone would realize that the two of them were living alone and Mikey would be taken away from him. And though he didn’t care about anything else, Gerard cared about Mikey. 

Gerard supposes that’s what’s keeping him going here. The promise he made to Mikey, one that he’s refusing to break. He’s going to see Mikey again, or die trying, there’s no other option. The routine overtook him. Work, school, doing anything he could to piss anyone off, because Gerard simply didn’t give a shit about what people thought. Until now. 

The feeling is new to him, strange. For once, Gerard doesn’t want to push Frank away. Maybe it's the knowledge that there’s really no one else around, no one to keep him grounded besides Frank and the cold gray walls. He never intended to open up this much, grow so close to Frank. But now, he’s finding himself forgetting to pull away. The laughs and smiles that jump to his face are genuine. For the first time in a long time, he actually cares. 

And he just wants to get lost in the feeling. Gerard lets himself do whatever he wants, just to see Frank smile. Sneaking out at night, making a fool of himself on the Director’s desk, almost getting caught, it’s all worth it. Because Gerard actually feels something and this time he doesn’t want it to disappear. Yes, a small part of him is terrified that he’s going to lose everything, the knowledge that one day, this will vanish as well weighing on him. But for once, he’s willing to fight, to try to experience this, because somehow, Gerard finds Frank too captivating, too riveting, too beautiful for Gerard to force himself to stop. There’s just more and more he wants to know, more he wants to see, more he wants to do. 

By the time the lights flick off, Gerard is exhausted. He closes his eyes, leaning his head against the wall, letting out a soft sigh. They’ve done enough work for today, plotting out the layout of the building from the information Gerard gleaned from the minds of the guards. It’s going to be one of the nights, one of the few ones where they actually try to catch up on all the sleep they lost. Gerard can’t help feel disappointment at this, as if sleep is robbing him of the time he can spend with Frank. But it’s what they need. 

Even after the darkness has ensued for some time, Frank doesn’t make a move to go back to his bed and Gerard doesn’t push him away. They sit there, side by side, not moving, hardly breathing, barely touching in the faint light shining through the door. 

Frank leans his head on Gerard’s shoulder after a while. That’s one thing Gerard has noticed about him. He loves physical affection, but only on a subconscious level. Whenever he’s fully awake, it’s like he tries to keep to himself, but at times like this, Gerard notices Frank leaning closer to him. Physical contact is something that Gerard has never been very comfortable with. He never has seen the point in hugging, or even touching in general. But he finds himself okay when Frank touches him. Besides, he’s too lazy to push Frank away. Frank looks so tired, his eyes half closed, leaning against Gerard’s shoulder. Frank’s dark hair has fallen into his face, obscuring his features from view, but Gerard swears he can see a slight smile flicker on Frank’s lips. 

Gerard strangely finds himself enjoying the comfort. He hesitantly reaches over, holding Frank closer, gingerly at first, then more relaxed as Frank doesn’t stir. He tries to relax, knowing that he should get some sleep, but he’s tense as hell. Physical affection has never been a big thing for him, he’s always hated it to some degree. 

Gerard knows he told Frank he was straight. Is he though? He doesn’t quite know. Yeah girls were pretty, but so were boys, right? Besides, he had never really liked anyone. Not in the butterflies and rainbow sense. In the heart fluttering, pulse racing sense. Is it even possible for him to feel that? The crushes he had before had just been a girl he had found pretty, but he had never wanted to date her. He definitely never had been in love. He doesn’t know if he even can fall in love. Maybe it was just that he didn’t feel anything for so long. Maybe it was just the fact that Gerard doesn’t trust people. He’s never really trusted anyone, well, anyone except for his brother, Mikey. Even with his brother, there was so much that Gerard didn’t tell his brother until it was far too late and he had to run. 

Frank makes a small noise as Gerard shifts. Gerard freezes, not wanting to wake the other boy from his slumber. Frank looks so peaceful, relaxed for once, an aura of light lilac surrounding him. He doesn’t want to disturb that. Gerard feels his own eyelids growing heavier as he rests his own head against Frank’s. He might as well get some sleep, he’s exhausted, it’s been a long day. 

As sleep washes over his mind, he sees the colorful shapes of his hometown, but something looks different about it. With a jolt of realization, he tries to pull himself away, but he can’t stop himself from falling into Frank’s memories.


	14. Leave A Dream Where The Fallout Lies

####  Gerard

Dry oak leaves chase each other down the sidewalks blown by the wind, tumbling head over heels as they skitter across the cement. The sun shines down overhead, but he can’t feel the heat from the rays. There’s no crunch of the leaves, no snap of a twig as Gerard walks, his footsteps silent as he glances around him. 

It’s chilly out, he would assume, seeing a young boy run by him, bundled in a winter coat. A smile flickers on his face as he sees the familiar enclosed churchyard, the group of children climbing the old pine tree. Everyone climbed it, no matter how many times the church put out a No Trespassing sign. Gerard even did it a few times, risking getting yelled at by a priest. He takes a few moments, watching the kids laugh and cheer, wistful of their carefreeness. 

His smile drops away as he sees who is standing in the center of the road. 

Frank’s eyes are closed, his arms slightly outstretched to the side. There are no cars in sight, but seeing Frank standing there, as if he’s waiting to be hit, makes Gerard’s stomach twist with worry. As Gerard nears him, Frank’s eyes open, but he stares straight through Gerard, as if he’s not there. 

Gerard hears the screeching of brakes and sees Frank jump to the side as something splatters on the ground, the crushed plastic cup rolling toward him as pink liquid sloshes everywhere.   
“F*g!” Someone jeers from out of the window. Gerard winces at the slur. He’s been called that enough time to hear it in his dreams, yet he still isn’t desensitized to it, the word still stinging him sharply.   
“Fuck you!” Frank yells after the car. As the car drives away, the energy seems to go out of him because he slumps over, resting his head in his hands. Gerard reaches over, trying to place his hand on Frank’s shoulder, but his fingers go straight through. Gerard shakes his head, rolling his eyes at his own stupidity. He’s in a memory, of course he can’t interact. 

Still, he wants to as he watches Frank stand up, brushing mud off of his jeans as he starts toward home. It’s dark by now, the streetlights flickering overhead as Gerard keeps his gaze fixed on Frank’s back as he vanishes, becoming a dark shape in the moonlight. 

A door slams behind him. 

Gerard whirls around, seeing that he’s no longer in the middle of the street and is instead in the dimly lit vestibule of a church. The walls are made of dark wood, casting an eerie feel over the room. Gerard peers into the nave, seeing the rows and rows of benches stretching toward the altar and the stained glass window above. 

A clap of thunder makes him jump as he glances back into the room, a chill running down his spine. The previously unoccupied pews are filled with white hooded figures, faceless, empty. They appear to be hollow forms, made of crumbling plaster, hunched over, clutching each other in different stages of grief. 

Gerard glances around as he takes a step forward, ready to enter the room. Just as his foot crosses the threshold, the figures move, standing up in a unified action. Gerard freezes, his heart pounding in his rib cage as they turn toward him before dissipating in a cloud of dust. 

He’s standing in front of a door, the dark wood painted. Through the flicker of candlelight, Gerard can see the faint carving of the number five on the door as it swings open in front of him. The classroom is dimly lit as Gerard walks in. Rows and rows of desk stretch in front of him, faceless children sitting at them. At the front of the room, a man stands, his hood drawn over tightly over his face, shrouding him in shadows. Though he can’t make out what it is, Gerard can tell the man is speaking. He approaches the man silently, trying to get a better look, but before he does, his gaze falls upon someone sitting in the back row. 

Frank’s half curled in his chair, a notebook on his lap. His head is down, he’s not paying attention, not by a long shot, and is instead scribbling out a caricature of a man who Gerard assumes is the teacher. Gerard watches him for a few moments, seeing the way Frank’s eyebrows furrow as he erases one line, redrawing the next one. It’s honestly adorable, the way graphite is smudged across Frank’s forehead and cheek. Gerard wants to reach over and brush it away, but before he can, a book slams down, making him jump.

Frank’s eyes go wide as he sits up. Gerard sees a glimmer of fear in them as he stares at the hooded teacher.   
“Mr. Iero, are you paying attention?”  
“Yes, sir,” Frank mumbles, keeping his gaze trained on the floor. 

The teacher obviously doesn’t buy it because he grabs the collar of Frank’s shirt, hauling him roughly to his feet.   
“Disgrace,” he scolds. “You’re a sinner, you know that?”  
“So are you,” Frank mutters, quiet enough for Gerard to hear.   
“What did you say?”  
“Nothing, sir,” Frank backtracks quickly. “I—”   
The slap rings out across the room. Gerard flinches at the sound, his instinct wanting to help Frank, but he knows that he can’t. He can only watch as Frank straightens, the red imprint of a hand on his face, his lip bleeding. Gerard can see the faint gleam of tears in Frank’s eyes as he clenches his fist, fingernails digging into his palms.   
“You know what to do.” The teacher’s voice is soft, a mocking tone to it. Gerard almost expects Frank to argue or fight back, but Frank merely turns, walking out the door. 

He doesn’t go toward the entrance like Gerard expects. Instead he turns, going down a narrow hallway before opening a door. The lightbulb flicks on, dim light illuminating the steep set of stairs descending into the darkness. Gerard wants to stop him, but he can only watch as Frank’s throat bobs up and down before he walks down, resigned to his fate. He watches as Frank reaches the bottom of the stairs, the end opening up into a vast stone-walled place. A crypt, Gerard realizes with a sinking feeling. He watches, pained as Frank takes a seat next to a tomb, a large square stone with words carved onto the sides, words that Gerard can’t quite make out in the dim light. He can only watch as Frank leans his head back against the stone, hugging his knees to his chest as he closes his eyes sobbing quietly. 

There’s more and more, the memories flurrying down like soft snowflakes around him, brushing against his skin as the scenes fly by. Frank, growing up. Young Frank holding up a toy car. Laughing with his mom. His dad ruffling his hair affectionately. Frank laughing, Frank happy, his face flushed with youth. As Gerard watches, the memories turn darker and darker. He sees Frank huddled in a pew, his face streaked with tears. He watches as the door slams, the shouts fading away. He sees the shock of Frank’s classmates as the purple forefield envelops Frank, shielding him from the flying punches. 

Gerard’s heart twists as he sees Frank running through the hallway, down the aisle of the church, toward the marble. He winces as Frank’s head hits the marble, watching as he’s dragged away toward the waiting truck. 

Last of all, he sees his own face, staring up at Frank as he walks into the room for the first time. But it’s not just surprise or anger that he senses in Frank; there’s also a strange feeling, one almost of joy.


	15. They Say We’re Never Leaving This Place Alive

#### Frank

When he wakes up, he’s back in his bed. Frank stretches, sitting up and yawning. He casts a glance around the now empty room, his gaze falling on the other bed, the blankets tangled. Gerard’s already gone, he must be in the Study Rooms. 

It wasn’t his imagination, was it? He had fallen asleep on Gerard’s bed last night, leaning against his shoulder. There’s a strange sense of disappointment filling him as he realizes that Gerard must have moved him back. He curses himself for feeling that way. Gerard’s just a friend, he reminds himself. He doesn’t care about me, not like that at least. 

As he sits up, something feels off. Frank frowns, wincing as he stands up. His head hurts, as if he’s been thinking for a long time, a dull pain in his temples. Weird. He takes a step forward, then almost instantly pitches forward. Frank lands on his hands and knees, his head spinning as his vision goes in and out. He struggles to breathe through the nausea building in him, his arms shaking as he tries to hold himself up. Something warm and wet trickles down the side of his face, dripping onto the ground beneath him. Frank tries to open his eyes to see, but he smells the iron tang of blood before he even sees the scarlet. What the hell? The pain only becomes more and more intense, Frank willing himself to pass out. 

At last, he can’t help it, he just lets himself sink down onto the concrete, his face pressing against his hands as he waits for it to be over. Frank’s mind is spinning, random scenes and visions flying through his peripherals, familiar memories flashing through his mind. God, it would be so embarrassing if Gerard walked in right now, though a part of him definitely wishes for Gerard to be here, or at least someone, to save him from the torrents of memories lashing through his mind. 

As quickly as it came, the pain disappears, the images going with it. Frank picks himself up the ground cautiously, waiting for it to come back, but it doesn’t. He leans against the wall, taking a few deep breaths, thoroughly soaked in sweat, his face wet with blood. When nothing else happens, Frank finally stands up on shaking legs, walking over to the towels so he can wipe his face down. Frank catches a glimpse of his pale, distorted reflection in the surface of the water. He looks like hell. His eyes are red, his face slightly swollen as if he had been crying, but he doesn’t remember doing so. There’s still blood crusted over his lip and in his ears, the scarlet flaking away as he wipes it with the stiff gray towel. 

Frank shakes his head, trying to clear the thoughts as he waits. He’ll have to ask Gerard when Gerard gets back. Soon, the guards should be coming to take Frank to the Study Rooms. He glances anxiously around, unsure of what to do. Finally, he gives up, crossing over to Gerard’s side of the room. Frank kneels down beside the bed, shoving his hand under the mattress, searching for the loose sheets of papers that entail their plans. 

Frank scans over the papers, reading through the plan over and over. It seems simple enough, Gerard has to make a guard open their cell door. Then it’s up to him to shield them as they get to the doors. There’s a set of doors that Gerard found the other day, hidden behind a shelf in an unused room. If they can get the lock off, they should be able to get out. After that, Frank sighs, staring at the question mark drawn on the page. They have no clue what awaits them outside. As much as he wants to make a break for it now, he knows that it’s a terrible idea. There could be anything on the outside of the Facility. He saw the barren yard and the guards patrolling around the barbed-wire fence, but that might only be part of it. 

The clicking of the latch makes Frank jump. He hastily stuffs the pages below his mattress, straightening as the guard walks in to lead him out. Frank prays that the guard’s eyes don’t stray to where the edge of one white page is sticking out, but it seems as if he’s in the clear. He hopes he’s gotten enough of the blood and sweat off of his face as to not arouse any suspicion. 

Something is different when he walks into the Study Room this time. He squints as he’s led into the room, the glare bouncing off the white walls, making the room even brighter, if that was even possible. Strangely, the familiar blue mats are gone, the sensors and markings covered up by what Frank assumes is a new coat of paint. That’s the only explanation for it at least, but there’s no trace of the chemical smell of paint. 

There’s nothing here, no trace of anyone. Frank scans the room, looking for Gerard, but he’s not there either. Come to think of it, Frank doesn’t see Gerard anywhere, not in the hallways, not in the rooms. He glances over his shoulders, hoping to see a sign of the other boy, but there are none. Curiosity and concern prickle through him, chasing after each other. What if Gerard’s in trouble? What could be going on? Nothing happens, and that’s what worries Frank. He stands there, alone in the center of the room, the time ticking by. But no one comes in, there are no instructions, nothing. 

Something twists in his gut, a sense of apprehension creeping through him as he hears a click behind him. He assumes it’s the door, but no, it’s still tightly shut, not even letting in a glimpse of the hallway. No one enters the room, it’s still just him. There’s no other sound other than the sound of his breathing and his heart hammering inside his rib cage. Frank shifts his weight, giving a cursory glance around the room before he realizes that it’s wrong. This isn’t a Study Room. No, it’s something different. He only has time to open his mouth before he’s plunged into darkness.


	16. I Know A Thing About Contrition

#### 

#### Gerard

Guilt is the first thing that plagues him. Frank obviously can’t tell, but after seeing the intimate aspects of his mind, Gerard feels terrible. He’s violated Frank’s privacy, something that he specifically asked Gerard not to do. Even though he knows he couldn’t control his powers: when he’s exhausted it’s easier for him to lose control, he still feels terrible. 

Gerard can barely focus in his session, something that definitely earns him several death glares from the scientists, but he doesn’t care. He feels sick to his stomach, knowing he’s witnessed something deeply personal, something that Frank wanted to hide. All Gerard can think about is the fact that he’s violated Frank’s trust. Still, he’s worried. What if Frank reacts badly to this, like he probably will? They can’t afford to fight, not with the impending escape looming over them. But it’s not right to pretend it didn’t happen. By the time the session is over, he’s made up his mind to apologize and clear the air with Frank. But when he walks into the room, Frank’s gone.

It’s agonizing, the waiting for Frank to return. Gerard runs the speech over and over inside of his mind. _Hey, Frank. Sorry, but I accidentally saw all of your personal memories last night. I know you asked me not to, but I—_ That just made him sound like an asshole. How could he even explain this? Gerard curses himself for being so careless. Why couldn’t he have been in more control? He wants to punch himself in the face. He’s violated Frank’s privacy, and probably his trust too. Just when they were starting to get closer. 

Gerard sighs, leaning against the wall. The best thing for him to do is come clean. Explain to Frank what happened and apologize. After that, he’s not sure what to do. 

He reads over the pages, reviewing the plan over and over, even though he knows it front and back. They have to escape, he has to. He winces at the thought. It’s another promise. Another one that he knows he has to uphold. He refuses to think about what will happen if he doesn’t. Every few minutes, he glances up at the door, but there’s nothing. 

Frank doesn’t return that night. 

It’s when it’s almost dawn, or what he assumes to be dawn, that Gerard starts to worry. It’s been several hours and there’s no sign of Frank, or any of the guards. Gerard sets his papers down, his eye catches on something on the ground, a darkened splotch of dried blood that was not there last night. His eyes travel to the discarded towel, stained with blood resting next to the door. Concern flares in him, worry gnawing at his stomach as he closes his eyes. He snags a passing guard’s mind, sinking into the warm, focused orange. It’s not difficult for him to do so, slipping into the mind of the guard with barely a twinge of pain. It’s a blur as Gerard searches for what he’s looking for, scanning the guard’s memories. There’s Frank, being lead out of the room, up toward the Study Room. After that, it trails off. The next memory of a dark room is useless. Gerard sighs, pushing the action into the guard’s mind. He hears the click of the latch as the door swings open. Even with all the times that he did this with Frank, he’s never been so nervous, he’s never had this sense of urgency pounding through him. Something’s wrong, he knows it. 

Swiping the flashlight before he goes, he tiptoes through the hallway, scanning the dark rooms. It’s still dark out, the hallways barely illuminated, the pale lights not enough to reach into the shadows in the corners. There’s no one in sight, no sound to be heard. Gerard scans for any hint of minds, wandering the empty halls. Only the brush of a few minds, the minds of guards stand out to him. 

Gerard jumps as he hears a muffled thump to his left. He glances around, but the hallways are empty. As he hears it again, he takes a step closer, pressing his hand against the wall. To his surprise, it moves back an inch. Gerard’s eyes widen in surprise as he hears a soft sound on the other side, a quiet sniffle. 

Taking a step back, Gerard rams his shoulder into the door, stumbling forward as the door gives way. The door slides shut behind him with hardly a click as Gerard sweeps the beam of the flashlight around, unsure of what to expect. 

“Frank?” Gerard calls out softly.

“Gee?” There’s a quiet sniffle as Gerard swings the beam of the flashlight around, the light falling upon a figure huddled in the corner. Frank looks up, squinting in the light. His knees are drawn to his chest as he wipes his face on his sleeve. He tries to hide it, but it’s obvious that he’s been crying. 

There’s a rush of clothing and movement as Frank launches himself at Gerard, wrapping his arms tightly around him. Gerard drops the flashlight in surprise, but he doesn’t pull away, holding Frank as the other boy buries his face in Gerard’s shoulder.  
“You’re okay,” Gerard whispers. “You’re okay.”  
Frank doesn’t respond, his whole body shaking as he clutches onto Gerard, his cries fading away softly. Gerard can’t help but think of the memory, the one of Frank in the crypt. He smooths Frank’s hair down, trying to comfort him as best as he can. 

As soon as he retrieves the flashlight, he checks Frank over. There’s dirt smudged over Frank’s face, blood staining his shirt. As Gerard examines Frank’s face, he notices the bruising over the side of his forehead and the nasty gash running along the side of his cheek. Gerard reaches his hand up, but Frank jerks away.  
“I’m fine,” he mumbles. Gerard’s about to protest but Frank buries his head in Gerard’s shoulder again. “Can we just go?” he asks, his voice muffled.  
He doesn’t want to talk, Gerard can sense that. So he guides them back to the wall, sliding his hand along the cold surface until he hears a click and the door opens. Gerard doesn’t think about the consequences, the repercussions of what he’s just done, he just focuses on carrying Frank back to their room.  
“I don’t want to be here anymore,” Frank cries softly. “I can’t—Gee, I just can’t stand it here, I—” his voice breaks. “I don’t want to—”  
“I know, I know,” Gerard shushes him. “It’s okay. We’re getting out, Frank. You don’t have to be here anymore. We’re leaving. Now.”


	17. Everybody Burn This House Right Down

#### Frank

That’s the last thing he ever expected Gerard to say. Just a few moments ago, he was in a dark room, trembling as memory after memory surged through his mind. Now, Gerard’s standing in front of him, Gerard, who saved him, telling him that they should escape. 

Escape. It’s not like it’s a surprise, an idea that was suddenly thrown at him. Still, he can’t help but gape at Gerard, as if Gerard’s just told him that the Earth orbits the moon. Maybe it is shock, maybe he is still processing, trying to figure out what exactly happened to him. Less than ten minutes ago, he was crouched in a dark corner, trying not to cry but failing miserably. It just reminded him of the crypt at the church, of his parents, of his old life and how much he missed being normal. How much he missed not being a freak, being a normal high school kid able to do what high schoolers were supposed to do. Not having to worry about life or death every day, worry whether or not he would see the next day. Not having to worry about escape, whatever the hell that meant. 

But escape now? Never, in a million years did Frank envision that possibility. He had thought that they would eventually, not now. Suddenly, Frank feels completely inadequate and vulnerable. Did Gerard even mean it? Frank had said the first thing that came to mind, the adrenaline messing with him. He was telling the truth, he really couldn’t stand another day here. But could they actually escape? He highly doubts it. They need more time. 

He realizes that Gerard is waiting for him to say something.  
“What do you mean?” Frank asks at last, his voice scratchy and hoarse. He winces, trying unsuccessfully to clear his painfully dry throat. He’s unsure if he’s heard Gerard right. His entire body is still trembling, unable to stand without Gerard’s support. “Now?”  
Gerard nods like his mind is already made up. “As soon as you’re ready,” he responds.  
“But what about—” Frank trails off, his mind whirling with all of the things that could go wrong. “We’re not ready—”  
“We have to be,” Gerard hisses. “Frank, they—you—” he shakes his head. Frank tries to shrinks back, but he can’t with Gerard’s grip on his shoulder. “They hurt you,” Gerard says softly.  
“It’s okay,” Frank whispers. “It is—”  
“No, it’s not,” Gerard cuts him off. “They hurt you. That’s never okay.”  
Frank can’t help it, tears spill from his eyes again, his chest heaving as he turns away from Gerard, trying to hide the fact that he’s crying again.  
“Do you need anything?” Gerard asks kindly. Frank shakes his head, struggling to calm himself down. Before he can move away, Gerard has pulled him in, wrapping his arms around Frank.  
“We’re going to escape,” he murmurs “we’re getting out of here.”  
At last, Gerard moves away. For a split second, Frank thinks he is going to charge out, but Gerard merely hands him a bottle of water. Frank stares at it for a second before he takes it, not realizing how parched his throat was until now. 

“We shouldn’t,” Frank blurts out. “We’re not ready, they’ll just kill us.”  
Gerard hesitates, then shakes his head. “We have to,” he says, “Frank, don’t you see? They’re going to hurt us. They’ll know we can sneak out after tonight. After that, they’ll ramp up the guards, assuming they don’t kill us first. Don’t you see? It’s now or never.” The desperation in Gerard’s gaze almost scares him.  
“I don’t know about my powers—” Frank protests weakly. “I won’t be able to block anything. I’ll—”  
Gerard tips his chin up, forcing Frank to look at him. “You’re going to be fine,” he promises. “We’re going to do this. We have to.” The last part is almost whispered, as if he doesn’t mean for Frank to hear it.  
“How are we going to do this?” Frank asks. “Won’t they realize I’m gone?”  
Gerard shrugs. “I can hold them off for a little bit. If you can shield, then we might have a chance.”  
“What if I can’t?”  
“I can wait to leave until you’re ready,” Gerard says softly. “But we really should now.”  
“Why—“ Frank asks, his voice trailing off. He swallows, asking the fated question. “Why are you waiting for me? You should just go. Take me back to the room and leave. They’ll never know.”  
“I need your help,” Gerard says, slowly and calmly, each word pronounced for Frank’s benefit. “I can’t do this without you. We’re stronger together. And I can’t just leave you here. I won’t. You are my friend.”  
Frank can only nod, his eyes wide. He can almost pretend that he didn’t see the way Gerard hesitated before he replied. “Okay,” he says.  
“Alright?” Gerard asks. “We’re going to do this?”  
Frank hesitates, seeing the conviction in Gerard’s gaze. “Alright,” he whispers. “If you’re sure.”  
“I am,” Gerard nods, though it seems as if Gerard’s doing it more to convince himself than Frank. “Let’s go.”

As he waits for the door to open, Frank wonders exactly how he ended up in this situation. How is he having to escape, with someone he’s unsure if he fully trusts? But that doesn’t matter now, he has to trust Gerard. At least trust Gerard enough because if he doesn’t, they won’t be able to escape. _Stronger together,_ he repeats to himself. We’re going to escape.


	18. You Better Run Like The Devil

#### Gerard

It’s a terrible idea and he knows it. But what else is he supposed to do? If they stay, they die. That’s clear to him. This is their only chance—if they figure out that he’s been sneaking out, he’s a dead man walking. He has two choices, he thinks to himself glumly. Die here, locked away, or die trying to escape. He’d rather take the latter. 

Of course he doesn’t voice his worries out loud to Frank. What good would that do? They both know the stakes, the slim chance that they might actually pull this off. Besides, even after they et out, there’s no telling what the outside world might be like. Who’s to say that they won’t be hunted down, chased forever until they finally give in? 

Gerard pushes the thoughts to the back of his mind as he closes his eyes, reaching out his senses. Focus on this, he tells himself. The future can wait. Right now, all he needs to do is get the door open. Gerard tries to tune out the sound of Frank pacing, the aura of yellow anxiety hanging around him as Gerard searches for a guard. 

It takes barely a breath before Gerard sinks into the guard’s mind. A slight nudge is all he needs before the guard turns toward the door, hand reaching for the latch. Gerard pushes down the thoughts and emotions in the guard’s brain, coaxing him further, the door sliding open. He starts to feel resistance, as the guard realizes something is wrong. With one last shove, Gerard pulls himself out of the guard’s mind, letting the guard collapse, unconscious at the foot of the doorway. 

The door swings open with hardly a click as Gerard jumps to his feet. In a split second, he’s out of the door, hesitating at the edge of the hallway. Frank follows him, a few paces behind as the two of them slip down the hallway. Gerard finds himself subconsciously reaching out, grabbing Frank’s hand as they run. Every footstep, every breath, Gerard knows that they can hear him. The guards must be right behind them, chasing them down, but when he glances over his shoulder, the hallway is empty. 

Footsteps sound as Gerard reacts, yanking Frank with him as the two of them duck into the nearby closet. It’s dark and cramped, the edge of a box digging into Gerard’s back as he shifts, trying to peer through the thin crack at the guards going by. He sees Frank wince as Gerard’s elbow digs into his back as he crans to get a glimpse. Luckily, there’s no clouds of worry hovering over the guards, no fear racing through their minds. But Gerard only knows it’s a matter of time before they discover the escapees. 

Gerard can feel Frank’s heart racing, his pulse quick and light from where Frank is pressed up against him. They’re in such close quarters, practically on top of each other. Frank makes a small noise in his throat as he moves, his knee digging into Gerard’s leg. Cold fingers grip onto his arm, then onto his face, then his shoulder as Gerard hears Frank’s breathing quicken, into short, small gasps of air.

“Are you okay?” Gerard whispers, breaking the precious silence. In the dim light, he sees Frank nod, or he guesses so at least. It’s hard to tell, from the close proximity they are at. He can practically feel Frank’s breath on his cheek as Frank’s fingers tighten around his shoulder.  
“Hey,” Gerard says, as quietly as he can. “Look at me.” Frank’s gaze flickers up to meet his, his eyes wide, the hazel of his irises dark. “You’re okay. Focus on my breathing.” Gerard reaches up, taking Frank’s hand and moving it so it’s pressed against his chest, directly over his heart. He watches as Frank takes a slow, shuddering breath. “That’s it.” Gerard wraps his other arm around Frank’s back, pulling Frank closer. He can feel Frank shaking as Frank rests his head against Gerard’s shoulder. 

“You’re okay,” Gerard whispers over and over again as he strokes Frank’s hair. “You’re okay.”

At last Frank moves away from him, or at least tries to unsuccessfully, given the tight space that they’re in.   
“Thanks,” he mumbles. “It’s just—small, dark spaces. I’m not too good with them.” Again, the memory of the crypt flashes through Gerard’s mind, the room that he had found Frank in, not even three hours earlier. When Gerard continues to watch him, Frank looks away. In the darkness, Gerard’s unsure, but he thinks he sees a blush creep over Frank’s cheeks. 

Gerard presses his ear against the door, listening for the sound of other people, but there are none. He glances behind him, meeting Frank’s gaze in the darkness before he opens the door, letting them spill out into the hallway. Frank exhales sharply as they step into the open space, a look of relief flashing over his face as Gerard reaches over, squeezing his hand. 

“Well, isn’t this a pleasant surprise?” 

Gerard freezes at the sound of the voice, his entire body going cold with fear. No. This can’t be happening, not when they are so close. Frank’s hand tightens around his, as Gerard slowly turns around, seeing a guard standing there, no several guards. The one in the lead is smirking, the gun poised in his hand. 

“What do you think you’re doing out?” The lead man asks. Gerard grits his teeth, trying to stop a retort from slipping out.   
“Just thought we’d take a walk,” Gerard responds as innocently as he can. “Is that not allowed?” It’s definitely not, he knows that.  
“Well I think they just gave us the permission to slaughter them like the freaks they are.” His eyes narrow as he glances down, seeing Frank and Gerard’s hands linked. “Or like the couple of f*gs you are.”   
“Fuck off,” Frank snaps. Gerard runs his thumb over the back of Frank’s hand, praying that Frank won’t go charging out at the man. As much as he wants to, he knows that if they make a single move, the guard won’t hesitate to shoot.   
“Ready to go home, like the good children you are?” The condescendingness of the man’s tone is really getting on his nerves.   
“How about you let us go, and no one will get hurt?” Frank asks.   
The man laughs, the sound chilling and cruel. “I think the only ones who get hurt will be you,” he says, a sneer twisting over his features. He aims the gun at Frank, then moves it over to Gerard, then back again. “Who should I kill first?”

Out of the corner of his eye, he sees Frank swallow, his hand tightening around Gerard’s, but his gaze doesn’t waver as he stares at the man. The man cocks the gun, the sound echoing through the hallway. In that moment, Gerard doesn’t even think, he just reacts. He ignores the consequences, what could happen. He stops thinking about the future, pushes his nightmares and fears away. All he knows is that he’s not going to let the man fire the gun. 

With a simple tightening of his fist, Gerard is already crashing headfirst into the guard’s mind. He rips through the memories, the emotions, layer by layer as the physical world fades away from him. All that matters is the corridors and corridors of memories as he searches, plunging deeper and deeper than he’s ever dared before. At last, he reaches what he’s looking for, the guard trembling beneath Gerard’s power. 

_Fire._ It’s one word, a simple word, but it’s enough. In a single motion, Gerard is pulled out of the guard’s mind as the man’s face goes eerily blank. He lifts the gun, turning it toward him as the barrel presses against his own forehead. Then he shoots. 

The man slumps over to the ground, scarlet blood pooling across the floor. Scarlet blood splatters the faces of the guards behind the man, splatters across Gerard’s face and clothing, the metallic tang filling his senses. In an instant, Gerard’s thrust back into his own mind, staring in shock at what he just did. The body—the man—his control--he’s done it, really done it this time. 

Gerard barely registers the sound of gunshots or the sound of bullets pinging against the floor, or the purple shield that’s extended before them. He doesn't register Frank’s hand gripping his as Frank tugs him down the hallway. All he knows is that he’s become what he’s terrified of. He’s a monster.


	19. I’m Not Much A Poet, But A Criminal

#### Gerard

The first time he killed was two years ago. 

He didn’t _mean_ to, but does anyone? Not fully at least. It was just so fast, a split second that changed everything, for better or for worse. It was justified, he has to admit, but is any death really justified? He’s still unsure, even to this day whether or not he should pay the consequences for taking another life. In some ways, he has, through the nightmares after nightmares that ripped through his mind, scarlet staining his hands, his friends and family dying around him, all killed by him. 

It started out as a normal day, Gerard hurrying home from school. Mikey had stayed behind, wanting to spend some time with some friends and Gerard hadn’t waited for him, instead running up the stairs to the apartment. He let himself in through the front door, the keys jangling as he tucked them into his pocket. Gerard dropped his backpack on the floor with the sound of a dull thud. “Mom?” He called. “You won’t believe what happened today at school—”

The silence greeted him like a punch to the face. Never in his life could he remember one time that the apartment was silent. His mom always hated when it was quiet out. Silence made too much noise, she would always say as she played another CD or hummed to herself. It drove him and his dad insane, but they had to put up with it. Secretly, Gerard loved it, the constant bustle and commotion in the apartment. But now, it’s silent, just the sound of the wind and a faint dripping sound. 

Gerard froze in his tracks, glancing around. Everything seemed to be in the ordinary, everything in its proper place. Hesitantly, he walked forward, toward the quiet dripping sound, preparing to see the worst. 

When he peered into the kitchen, he let out a sigh of relief. It was just the sink, the faucet running, water overflowing the basin. But the sight sends another chill down his spine, suspicion prickling in his mind. His mom would never do something like that. She would scold him to shut off the faucet. _You’re wasting water, Gee. Don’t do that._

In a brief move, he crosses over to the sink, shutting off the flow of water. It’s then that he notices the knife drawer is open, gleaming knives staring back at him. It’s not out of the ordinary, his mom could have just been cooking and forgotten to close the door. But a chill runs down his spine. Especially when he sees the blood staining the floor. 

Gerard’s hand crept to his pocket where he pulled out his phone, sending a quick text to Mikey. _Get back here, right now. -Gee._

His phone buzzed in response as Mikey replied, something with probably a thousand question marks, but Gerard didn't see as he silenced his phone, putting it down on the counter as he picked up a knife. 

The hallway floor creaked as Gerard crept along the side, his fingers clenched tightly around the knife. He didn’t know what he was expecting exactly, there could be nothing. He could just be paranoid, but he knew something was off. As he stepped toward his parent’s bedroom, that’s when he heard it. A soft cough, almost a whimper of pain. 

His heart raced in his chest as he raced the last few steps, jiggling the doorknob. There was the sound of footsteps and a startled gasp before Gerard heard a thud.   
“Mom?” He called, pounding on the door. “Dad?” 

In response, he heard a crash and a rattling noise before silence ensued. Gerard gritted his teeth in frustration before he took a running leap at the door, his shoulder colliding with the wood before he stumbled into the room. 

The first thing he saw was the open window, the curtains fluttering in the breeze. Something scarlet stained the fabric, leaving a trail to the center of the room, where his parents lay. 

Gerard almost passed out right there and then. For what seemed like hours at the time, he stared at the bodies, wave after wave of shock crashing through him. His mind went completely blank as he stared at the horror, the sight burning into his eyeballs. Gerard was frozen still, unable to think, unable to breathe as he stood.

It was the sound of footsteps that finally jolted him out of his daze. A short heavy breath echoed from beside him. Before he even registered he was moving, he had thrown his powers out like a fist, freezing the figure in his tracks. When he came to his senses, an older man was staring at him, the man’s watery eyes bulged out. Gerard looked down to see the blade of a knife hovering directly in front of his sternum before he saw his own knife buried deep in the man’s chest. It was the feeling of hot, sticky blood flowing over his hand that caused him to let go, the man collapsing to the ground in front of him. Gerard stared at the body, unable to react as the man let out a few coughs, blood splattering across Gerard’s face.

When Mikey came home, the authorities in tow, they said that they had found Gerard kneeling in the center of the room, clutching his parents’ bodies. The man, presumed attacker and killer of their parents, was dead. Gerard hadn’t even registered the information, in fact he hadn’t registered anything, not the way blood matted his hair, not the way that his fingernails were caked with blood, not the fact that he had just killed a man, that he had nearly been killed himself, nor the fact that his parents were dead. 

It was only around a week later that it all came back to him. 

The memory haunted him every single day. No matter how much his friends or his brother tried to comfort him, all he could see was bodies of his parents and the last breaths of the man. He couldn’t sleep, couldn’t eat for days without wanting to throw up. He couldn’t even close his eyes without seeing the horror. 

Seeing the body of the man, bile rises in Gerard’s throat. A second ago, the man was alive. Now he is dead, life bled out onto the floor. _Again,_ his mind whispers. _Again, again, again._ Any second now, he’s ready to see the bodies of his parents. If he closes his eyes, he can see them, can see the blood, the gruesome slashes across their throats, like sickening smiles carved into their skin. Next to them, no, next to them is Mikey, Frank, everyone Gerard has ever cared about. They’re all dead, they’re all dead. He can’t even look down at his hands, knowing that they’re stained with blood as they grip the blade of the knife gleaming in blood. Forever stained, the blood—too much blood—the blood—

“Gerard.” Hands grab his shoulders. Gerard fights to get away, feeling arms wrap around him, keeping him in place. “Gee, look at me.”  
Gerard forces his gaze up, locking on Frank’s face. Frank, who’s not dead, Frank, who’s in front of him, unscarred and unharmed. Relief floods through him, his mind quieting. Frank’s alive, he’s okay.   
“Can you follow me?” Frank asks, his voice soft. Gerard forces himself to nod, gripping onto Frank’s hand as they begin to move. 

Gerard closes his eyes as they walk, hearing noises in the distance, but unsure where they’re coming from. It’s all too much so he focuses on holding Frank’s hand, focuses on breathing as he walks forward, focuses on the sound of Frank’s voice even though he’s unsure of what exactly Frank is saying. 

“Gerard, Gee,” Frank urges. Gerard snaps out of his daze, glancing around. They’re crouched in a dark tunnel, one that he has no recollection of entering. Frank’s hand is gingerly resting on his shoulder, as if he’s afraid of touching Gerard now that Gerard has noticed. Gerard winces at the memory, seeing Frank pull his hand back as soon as Gerard nods.   
“We have to go,” Frank says urgently. “Can you—”  
Gerard nods, forcing the memories back. His entire power is to control memories and the mind. Why the hell can’t he fight this? He pushes past Frank, starting up the narrow corridor without another look back. One thing he’s learned, if he keeps running, he just might be able to leave the memories in the dust.


	20. Would You Carry Me To The End?

#### Frank

They need to move, and quickly. The concrete scraps roughly against his knees and palms as he scrambles after Gerard, climbing through the steep, narrow corridor. It’s damp and musty, the floor wet, but Frank doesn’t pay any heed to it. Instead, all he focuses on is the dark shape of Gerard in front of him, forcing himself to keep up with Gerard. 

Fear presses in on his mind, the darkness, the walls seeming to grab at him as he crawls. But he pushes it away, almost angrily. They almost got killed because of him already. He can’t afford to be bogged down by his own fear, not after what just happened, not in the state that Gerard is in. 

It seems as the tunnel stretches on forever. The two of them move as fast as they can, the only sound being of their heavy breathing and muffled curses as they crawl. Frank’s pants are soaked from the constant stream of water, sticking uncomfortably to his skin as he moves. He’s certain he’s scraped his knee open too, the faint iron tang of blood hanging in the air, but he can’t stop and check. 

They reach a bit of an opening, the tunnel widening enough for them to stand. Frank lets out a sigh of relief as he brushes the dirt off of his soaked pants, taking a deep breath. The fear fades to the edges of his mind as he focuses on Gerard. 

He can tell Gerard is still out of it, from the robotic way he’s moving and the glazed look in his eyes. Blood is still splattered across Gerard’s face and clothes, as well as Frank’s own. Frank can’t seem to get the image of the man, his brains splattered across the pavement, bits of skull raining down around them, the thought making him nauseous. But he has to take care of Gerard right now. Frank watches as Gerard sits down on one of the concrete blocks, his head in his hands. He doesn’t seem to register as Frank sits down next to him.   
“I killed—” Gerard’s still in shock, he can tell. Gerard’s green eyes meet his own. “Frank—Frankie, I killed—”  
“You saved me.” Frank is shocked by the intensity of his own voice. “Gerard, you saved me. You saved both of us.”  
Gerard stares at him. “No,” he mutters. “The man. I killed—”  
“He would have killed us,” Frank interrupts. “He would have killed me, he was about to. If you hadn’t stepped in—” he shudders at the thought. “He would have shot me.”  
“I—”  
“You saved us,” Frank says again. “Gee, you didn’t have a choice.”  
“That’s what they said last time,” Gerard mutters. “It’s always a choice, isn’t it? I just made the wrong one. I’m a monster, I—”  
Screw his fear. Gerard’s already seen a lot, if not most of his memories. Screw the fact that Gerard’s a mind reader, because honestly, Frank doesn’t care at this point. All he knows is that touching Gerard won’t make any of a difference. 

Frank reaches over, putting his hand gingerly over Gerard’s mouth, cutting him off. “No,” he says softly. “You’re not.”  
Gerard stares at him, in shock at his words or maybe the fact that Frank’s so freely touching him. “Frank—” he says, his voice muffled by Frank’s palm. “I—”  
“Shh.”  
“Did you just shush me?” Gerard asks, pulling back, sounding like himself again.   
“Maybe,” Frank answers, standing up. He lets out a noise of surprise as Gerard pulls him back down, wrapping his arms around Frank’s waist and resting his head against Frank’s stomach. Frank rests his hands on the top of Gerard's head, his fingers tangling gently in the strands of long black hair, wanting to stay there forever. 

But everything good must come to an end. In the distance, Frank can hear voices and footsteps, drawing closer and closer. He stiffens, opening his eyes, glancing down the dark corridor which they came from. He slips out of Gerard’s grasp as Gerard jumps up, seeming to regain his composure. Gerard nods once as the two of them turn, running back into the darkness. 

Frank forces himself to keep moving, even as he feels his way down the wall, the concrete slick to the touch. He tries not to think about how close the walls are around him, suffocating. Instead, he focuses on the sound of Gerard breathing, focuses on getting away, what they’re doing. 

Frank crashes into Gerard’s back as Gerard suddenly stops. Frank mutters an apology as he hears Gerard curse.   
“What?” Frank asks, fear prickling down his spine.   
“It’s locked,” Gerard grunts. Frank hears a dull thunk as Gerard must have kicked the door. “I can’t get it open.”  
“Let me try,” Frank mutters. He squeezes by Gerard, kneeling next to the door.

The metal is cold against his hands as he runs his fingers up and down the door frame, searching for a latch or something he can use as leverage. There’s nothing, just cold, smooth metal along the entire length of the wall. Frank begins to panic. Being trapped in the dark tunnel doesn’t help much either, with the guards growing closer and closer. Freedom is so close, tauntingly so on the other side of the door. Frustrated, Frank pounds on the door, willing the metal to move. If they can’t get it open, then—his fingers spark, purple energy igniting between them. That’s when he gets the idea. 

“Anything?” Gerard asks.   
“One idea,” Frank sighs. “If this doesn’t work, then…” he lets his voice trail off. “Well, here it goes.” 

Pressing his hands against the metal again, Frank concentrates on the energy inside of himself. His fingers spark purple as a small disk-shaped shield appears in front of him, spinning in the air. He can feel Gerard’s intent gaze on his back as he maneuvers it into the crack of the door, wincing at the concentration it takes. Frank’s head is spinning by the time he gets it into place. He hears the metal creak and groan, shuddering from the weight. But if he can stop bullets with the shields, he should be able to put enough force into the door to pry it open. Silently, Frank sends up a prayer, unsure of why he’s doing so. 

But it’s as if his wish is answered. The door swings open, crashing against the wall in a cloud of dust. Gerard lets out a cheer as he grabs Frank’s hand, pulling him up. Together, the two of them stumble into the cold air, then run, sprinting as fast as they can as they hear gunshots and yells from behind them. They’re not stopping, even as they reach the fence, Frank pushing the wires apart as they slip away, into the forest, running, not ever stopping. 

Because they’re finally free, running into the darkness, the night alight with stars.


	21. Life Is But A Dream For The Dead

# Part 2: Better Run ‘Till You Reach The Sky

  


### Location: Streets of the Sixth Town  
Time: 3:01  
Subject: M-07, M-74, unidentified others  
Notes: Currently on the loose, evading capture. All teams have been summoned. Leader is on the way. We almost have them.

  


#### Gerard

They’re coming. 

Already, he can feel the shadows creeping in, threatening to take over. There’s a shadowy hand at the edge of his peripherals, reaching, fingers outstretched. He can feel the cold breath down the nape of his neck, goosebumps prickling over his skin. He doesn’t dare look behind him, knowing that they’ll be right there, monstrous faces, distorted and ghastly, hideous fangs bared, ready to kill. 

So he keeps his eyes fixed on the forest ahead, dodging blindly through the trees, sticks and branches scraping against his face. Loose rocks skid from under his sneakers as he sprints through the undergrowth, trampling through patches of thornbushes and briars, wincing as fresh blood wells into the scratches. 

Keeping busy is the only way to chase away the demons. Gerard knows that. He’s running blindly, not even knowing where he’s heading. Just away, out of the grasps of his pursuers, out of the darkness, out of the place they’ve escaped just escaped from. 

_Look what you did,_ they hiss. _Another one dead, another person gone because of you. At your hands. How long before the deaths of everyone you love stain your hands? How long before you are truly alone?_

Running, running running. Because he knows if he stops they will catch up to them. They’re there, at the edges of his mind, whispers growing closer and closer and closer. So he moves instead, his breath coming in gasps as his shoes hit the ground in a steady rhythm. He doesn’t care where he’s going, just away. Away from the nightmares that are sure to grip him, away from the memories. 

He doesn’t stop as he reaches the river, luckily only a trickle of water from the drought, jumping across. He only waits for a moment, watching as Frank follows him before he sprints off again. The trees seem to be closing around him, the branches reaching closer and closer. Already, he can see the man standing in the shadows before him, the top half of his skull gaping open, leering at him, the gun in his hands. Gerard shivers as he closes his eyes briefly, willing the image to disappear. 

Not real, not real, he tells himself. Get your head in the game. It’s not real.  
_Not real?_ The twisted phantom seems to hiss. _I was plenty real. Until you blew my brains out._  
_It was an accident,_ Gerard pleads. _I didn’t mean to._  
_An accident?_ The man’s lip curls. _You killed me._  
_I had to, it was self defense,_ Gerard defends himself. _If I didn’t you would have killed me—_  
_So you admit it wasn’t an accident._ The man takes a step closer, his face shadowed, blood dripping down his forehead. Still, Gerard can see the body in front of him, the little white pieces of skull and hanging bits of brain. Gerard swallows, taking a step back, trembling slightly. He makes a shoving motion with his hand, not certain if he’s trying to push the image away or flip it off. Frank gives him a quizzical glance, but Gerard pushes ahead, trampling through the bushes and long grass. He has to move again. Because he knows as soon as he stops, he will die. 

Self defense. It was self defense. He tries to think of what Frank said, in the dark tunnel, the few fleeting moments they had in the midst of the turmoil of the escape. I saved him. I saved both of us. It’s true, he knows it. But a part of him still wonders, what if he really just wanted to? There could have been other ways, killing wasn’t what he had to resort to, yet he still did. Maybe he really is, really is a monster—

_You’re not._

That’s what Frank told him. With a last burst of energy, Gerard stumbles out of the edge of the forest onto the edge of a road before he collapses to his knees on the hard pavement. His head spins as he braces himself against the ground, trying to stop the world from tipping around him. 

“Are you okay?” Frank pants from where he’s stumbled out of the forest behind Gerard.  
Gerard nods, still not trusting himself to speak. Wordlessly, he pushes himself up, taking a few unsteady steps forward. They should rest, he knows this. But the monsters and the guards, the one of a kind are too close behind for him to stop, the whispers creeping in with every still minute. Rest can wait, wait at least until they get a few miles from here, far enough away. He just wants to put as much distance as he can between them and the Facility. 

The Facility. It seems like a dream ago, a lifetime ago, even though they were there merely an hour before. Gerard can barely picture the concrete gray walls or the blinding white paint. It is as if his mind has gone fuzzy, a blurred image where the rooms once were. 

A car whizzing by makes him jump back. For a moment, all he can do is stare after it, like a crazed person. It’s the first time he’s seen someone else, at least besides the guards, scientists, and Frank. He’s acting like a child, stepping foot outside for the first time. The thought makes Gerard laugh suddenly, the sound piercing and loud, unnatural in the darkness and the severity of the situation. 

Frank glances at him, concerned, but Gerard can’t stop. Laughter bubbles up inside of him as tears prick in his eyes, until he’s gasping for breath, doubling over and clutching his stomach. He has no clue why he’s laughing, there’s absolutely nothing comedic in this situation. They’ve escaped from a Facility, for having superpowers. He has just killed a man and sprinted through the woods to freedom. But the absurdity of it all makes him crack up until he has to lean against the trunk of a tree, still laughing madly. 

At last, Gerard wipes his eyes, standing up. His chest hurts, everything hurts actually. Even in the darkness, he can see the cuts and scrapes on his legs and arms, the bruises marring his skin. But for the first time, his head is clear, crystal clear, the world snapping back into focus around him. Without another word, he sets off down the road, letting an utterly confused Frank trail behind.


	22. It Rains And It Pours

#### Gerard

The first thing they do is find a donation box. They need to get rid of their uniforms—those are a dead giveaway. There are not many options, but they can’t afford to be picky. Rifling through old clothes, they find a few pairs of black jeans and t-shirts, changing quickly. It’s cold out, so Gerard pulls out a black jacket as well. 

From the convenience store, Gerard picks up some supplies, tucking it into a backpack. Some bottled water, some packaged snacks. A first aid kit, bandages and peroxide. Gerard easily gets them some cash, convincing a cashier to give him a wad of twenties. He tucks it into his pocket, making sure to erase himself from the man’s mind before he goes. 

The two of them head across the town, keeping to the outskirts as they head farther and farther away. Gerard leads the way, Frank following closely behind him as they reach the edge of the highway. Picking their way through bushes and discarded plastic bags, they hike through the edge of the woods, branches scraping against their arms. Gerard sighs, glancing up at the cars whizzing by. He doubts that anyone will bother to call in two boys walking along the highway, but he’d rather not take the chance and be seen. 

Gerard takes the next exit, climbing over the railing of the exit ramp. He turns back to give Frank a hand, who gives him a small smile of thanks in response. It’s chillier now, the sun starting the set. Gerard wraps his jacket tighter around him, his teeth chattering as he walks, the street lamps glowing in the darkness around them. 

The first motel comes into view, the lights glowing, the vacancy sign brightly lit. Relief fills Gerard as he starts toward the parking lot. At least they won’t have to spend the night outside.

Frank grabs his arm before he can step into the light.  
“What?” Gerard asks, pulling his arm from Frank’s grasp.   
“Should we?” Frank asks. “They’ll just call us in.”  
“Not if I can help it,” Gerard says. He starts toward the motel again and this time Frank doesn’t stop him, lagging behind as they cross the parking lot. 

Gerard casts a glance at the windows as they pass. Some of the rooms are lit, the light shining through the pale curtains. He pauses at the dark one at the end of the row, rapping lightly on the door with his knuckles. There’s no response.   
“Let me,” Frank says.   
Gerard raises an eyebrow at him, but Frank pushes past him. Glancing both ways, Frank kneels down, pulling a length of wire from his pocket. He inserts it into the lock, twisting it until he hears a satisfying click. Pushing the door open, he stands up, giving Gerard a triumphant glance. 

“Where did you learn how to do that?”  
Frank’s gaze drops as he studies the pavement with interest. “Catholic school,” he responds. “They didn’t like me very much.” Gerard can see the painful memories gleaming in Frank’s mind, wincing as he remembers Frank in the crypt. Guilt flashed through him. Frank still has no idea that he’s seen it all. He meant to tell Frank, but then the escape and...this is the first time they’ve been able to actually talk. Still, he can see the cloud of dark pain hanging over Frank as the other boy pushes past him, not waiting to see his response. 

The lights flick on, illuminating the small room. It’s quite cramped, a dresser shoved in the corner, a desk squarely beside it. A queen bed rests against the back wall, a dingy lamp next to it. Gerard shuts the door dropping his backpack and lowering the curtains. He crosses the room, flicking on the lamp, watching the lightbulb flicker, before he turns off the main lights. 

Frank gives him an odd look as he does so.   
“So they can’t see the light and get suspicious,” Gerard explains. He crosses to the bathroom, turning on the dim lights in there.   
Frank nods. “That’s smart,” he says. Gerard notes how he’s wringing his hands together, probably unsure of what to do.   
“We should leave at dawn,” Gerard says. “I’ll take the floor if you want.”  
“No, I can if you want,” Frank says quickly.   
“Okay,” Gerard shrugs. “Go ahead, I guess. You can shower first, if you want.”

As Frank does so, Gerard heads across the motel parking lot, toward the diner located across. It’s a breakfast one, so he hopes Frank isn’t picky. He’s consciously aware of his dirty appearance as he tries to smooth down his hair, picking a few sticks out of his clothes. 

The smell of pancakes greets him as he pushes open the door. He glances up at the TV, fearing he will see his own picture reflected back at him, but it’s just some sports game. Gerard breathes a sigh of relief as he crosses toward the counter placing his order. 

As he sits down on one of the old chairs, he glances around the room, seeing other customers laughing and chatting with each other. He wonders what it must be like, to be normal, not being chased and afraid of being caught every second of his life. 

His thoughts wander to Frank. It almost seems as if Frank was starting to trust him, when they were in the tunnel under the Facility. But now, Frank’s reverted to his jumpy self, cautious around Gerard. Maybe it was just because of the situation, the adrenaline and fear that made Frank comfortable with touching him. Gerard sighs, shaking his head. For some reason, it bothers him. It’s not like he’s going to stay with Frank. Gerard needs to find Mikey. Besides, Frank probably has his own places he needs to go to. That was the deal. Get out together, then split ways. 

“Here you go!” A waitress hands him a paper bag, which he takes gratefully, standing up.  
“Thank you,” he responds.   
“You have a little—” she reaches up, plucking a leaf he must have missed off his shirt.   
“Oh,” Gerard says. “Thank you.”  
“I saw you and another walking toward the motel. Y’all staying there?” the waitress asks.   
Okay, that is a bit creepy. Gerard has to admit that he’s on his guard now. He probes the waitress’ mind. She went outside on a smoke break, seeing Frank and Gerard walking toward the hotel.  
“Just for a bit,” Gerard says casually. As he responds, he begins his work, pushing the memory from the girl’s mind.   
“Oh that’s too bad,” she says. “There’s a party tonight, a few blocks from here. You look like someone who should come.”  
“Thanks for the offer, but I have to decline,” Gerard says, fiddling with the paper bag.  
“It’ll just be for a bit,” she says. “You should come.”  
“Thanks again,” Gerard says, backing up a little bit. “But, uh, my boyfriend and I have to be somewhere early tomorrow.” He winces a bit as he drops the word in there. He hopes she’ll get the hint, even though he is definitely not dating Frank.  
“Oh, cool,” she nods, taking a step back. “See you around then?”  
“Yeah,” Gerard replies. He pulls on a few more invisible wires, the girl’s eyes going glassy as she heads back to her work. Satisfied, Gerard pushes open the door into the cold night air, heading away from the diner. 

He almost makes it without any trouble. When he’s crossing into the motel parking lot, he hears a voice yelling at him. Gerard pretends to ignore it, picking up his pace. He can feel the suspicion radiating off the other man, his heart rate speeding up.   
“Boy, I’m talking to you.” A hand grabs his shoulder, wheeling him around. The man stinks of cigarettes from where he towers above Gerard.   
“What do you want?” Gerard asks.   
“You from around here?” There’s the suspicious glare.   
“Uh, yeah,” Gerard responds quickly. He sees himself talking to the waitress in the man’s mind. “Just seeing how my, uh, girlfriend is doing.” Wow, he’s on a roll, isn’t he?   
“Is that right?” the man asks. “You haven’t been in any trouble, have you?” Gerard frowns as he slips back into the man’s thoughts. He sees his own face plastered on the screen, the reward scrolling underneath. Shit. 

The man seems to notice first, because he steps forward, his fist raised. Gerard ducks instinctively, dodging away from the blow. He curses silently to himself as he gathers his powers in his mind. He hates doing this, but it’s necessary. Gerard throws the invisible blow toward the man, the hook sinking into the man’s thoughts. The man’s eyes bulge out before he collapses onto the pavement, his head hitting the ground with a nauseating conk. Gerard winces, knowing the man is overwhelmed with all his worst memories as he gets to work, erasing every trace of himself. Guilt plagues him as he breaks into a run, skidding to a halt outside the door to the motel room. 

He knocks lightly on the door, feeling a spike of alarm coming from Frank.   
“It’s me,” he calls out quietly. He hears a click before the door opens, just enough for him to slip in. 

Frank shuts the door, locking it as he watches Gerard setting the bag on the desk. His hair is still wet from the shower, a towel wrapped around his shoulders to keep his shirt from getting wet. Frank’s dark hair is shorter now—he must have taken Gerard’s advice to change his appearance. Gerard notes how he can actually see Frank’s eyes now, really see them, the beautiful hazel color they are. He realizes he’s staring as he clears his throat, turning toward the bag to busy himself. 

“Where did you go?” Frank asks.   
“I got us some food,” Gerard explains. “Help yourself. I’m gonna go take a shower.”

A cold shower and a few bottles of shampoo later, Gerard stands in the bathroom, staring at the slightly fogged up mirror. The sharp, yet odorless smell of hydrogen peroxide hangs in the air around him as he examines his lightened hair color. He runs his hand through his newly shortened blond hair. Satisfied, he peels off the latex gloves, dropping them in the trash can before walking into the bedroom.

It’s dark in the room, Frank must have turned off the lights. Gerard nearly trips over where he’s lying on the floor. Frank took one of the pillows and blankets from the bed, making himself a makeshift bed on the floor. It’s quite cold in the room, the air conditioning on despite the chill outside. Gerard lies down, the bed creaking as he does so. It’s too soft, uncomfortable to him after he’s used to the hard beds at the Facility. 

He lies there in silence, listening to the sound of Frank’s quiet breathing as he tries to fall asleep. Gerard rolls over on his side, trying to get more comfortable but he can’t seem to. He hears Frank shifting on the floor as well, the hard ground obviously not very comfortable either. 

At last, Gerard sighs, sitting up. “Come up here,” he whispers.   
“What?” Frank sounds utterly confused.   
“You sound really uncomfortable,” Gerard responds. “There’s plenty of space.” He hears Frank hesitate, before the bed dips down on the other side.

“Thanks,” Frank whispers as he shifts, sliding under the covers.  
“It’s fine,” Gerard says. There’s so much space between them, he honestly fears Frank is going to fall off the edge of the bed. But he doesn’t suggest anything, not wanting to make the other boy uncomfortable. It strangely bothers him how Frank seems almost scared of him. But there’s nothing Gerard can do about that, so he rolls over, trying to get some sleep. 

When he wakes up, the faint sunlight is streaming in through the windows. He shifts to love, then freezes realizing there’s someone else lying next to him. His arm is draped over Frank’s body, and Frank’s practically lying on top of him, still fast asleep.


	23. I Think I’m Going To Burn In Hell

#### Frank

He’s standing in the center of the church. Candles flicker at the edges of the pews, the light washing faintly over the dark wood. Frank glances around, but he can’t see anything in the dark corners. There is somber organ music faintly playing in the background too, but he can’t quite make it out what the song is. 

The lights flash and Frank jumps as a clap of thunder echoes through the hall. As he glances around again, he notices that the pews are filled with men and women dressed in dark clothing, their heads bowed. A priest is standing at the front of the crowd, his eyes closed, hands raised up. The only spot of color is the dark red blooming across the front of the priest’s chest, blood dripping down from the corners of his eyes. 

The priest’s eyes fly open and Frank stumbles backward involuntarily. There’s no pupil in the man’s eyes, just a glassy white look as the priest lowers his hand, his index finger point squarely at Frank’s chest. Frank looks down in shock. HERETIC is scrawled in ugly red font across his black uniform. As he watches, other words appear. DEMON, F*GGOT, MONSTER. Panic fills Frank as the other people’s heads snap up, their eyes boring into him. He sees his parents, staring at them distastefully, repulsion etched into their features as if carved with a knife. Everybody knows, he thinks blindly. Everyone knows exactly who he is. He feels as if he’s been stripped, presented open and wide for everyone to see his deepest secrets. 

The priest opens his mouth but no words come out. Instead a grating shriek echoes through the hall as someone—multiple someones grab Frank’s arms, yanking him backward. Frank is unfrozen in a split second as he struggles against his captors, but he can’t win. A soundless scream escapes from his lips as he is hauled backward, down the familiar set of dark, twisting stairs. The candles only cast a faint glow, but he doesn’t need to see to know where they are taking him. Concrete scraps against his shoulder as he’s jostled, the light casting strange shadows on the walls. 

He hears the rattle of bars as he’s thrown into a crypt, landing hard on his hands and knees. Lunging for the door is futile, but he does it anyway, his fingers clasping onto the iron bars of the door as he rattles them desperately. The only sound in response is the hollow laughter as the shapes of the guards move away, leaving Frank alone. 

He sits down in the center of the crypt, trying to calm his panicking mind. It’s cold so he wraps his arms around himself, forcing himself to look away from the shadows and the watching eyes of the stone statues. Already, he can hear the whispers at the edges of the crypt, clawed fingers reaching toward him, ready to slice him open, put all of his secrets on display. They all know, they all know everything about him. 

Frank’s eyes fly open as he gasps in shock, shooting up. It’s still quite dark in the room so he can barely make out the faint shape of Gerard leaning over him.  
“Are you okay?” Gerard asks softly. “You were thrashing around.” There’s a note of concern in his voice, one that Frank hadn’t noticed before.  
“Sorry, sorry,” Frank apologizes. He tries to slow his racing heart. He’s shaking, badly so, his hands cold and clammy, but he tries to control it. “Did I wake you?”  
Gerard shakes his head. “I was already up. It’s morning. We should move.”  
Frank nods, blinking sleep from his eyes. Gerard doesn’t move away though, staring at him until he starts to feel uncomfortable.  
“Uh, I’ll get ready then,” Frank says, breaking the silence. He’s still shaking, uncomfortable in his own skin.  
Gerard nods, tearing his gaze away as he heads toward the front of the room. Frank watches him for a few more moments, quite confused before he shakes his head. He is surprised to find himself lying in the bed before he remembers climbing up at some point in the middle of the night. The knowledge that he and Gerard were so close makes him flush slightly before he silently scolds himself. 

Frank heads to the shower, wanting to scrub every hint of the nightmare from himself. Already, panic is shooting through him as he wonders how much Gerard saw. He’s a mind reader, what if he saw the dream? He promised Frank that he wouldn’t read his mind, but Frank doesn’t know how much he trusts him. A little bit, that’s the answer. Frank has to admit that he does trust Gerard. After all, they did escape together. Gerard’s helped him already, he’s helped Gerard. Maybe it could work and they could actually learn to trust each other. Not like it would matter, Frank sighs. They’re going to split ways soon anyway. 

Frank closes his eyes, trying to let the water wash every hint of the nightmare and fear from him. He stands there until he hears the click and the water shuts off, the time limit exceeded. Frank takes a moment, staring at his own reflection before he opens the door, stepping out of the steam filled bathroom. 

Breakfast consists of a few granola bars and a few cups of coffee in styrofoam cups that Gerard somehow managed to swipe from the bed and breakfast. Frank winces as he takes a sip of the scalding hot coffee. It’s quite diluted, yet still bitter. At least it keeps him awake. 

They do their best to fresh up the room and leave it how they found it. Gerard’s humming something as he folds the towels, causing Frank to glance over at him. Gerard doesn’t notice as he turns, focused on his task. His tongue is poking slightly out as he concentrates, something that Frank finds kind of adorable. Gerard dyed his hair last night, something that Frank hasn’t gotten a close look at until now. Frank has to admit that he must look different too, with the haircut he gave himself, but his change in appearance isn’t as drastic as Gerard’s. 

An hour later, they’re well on their way. Frank follows Gerard as they make their way through the woods. It must have rained last night, the ground soggy with water and mud. The cans rattle in Gerard’s backpack as they walk, the only noise Frank can hear other than his own breaths. Gerard seems to know where he’s heading, so Frank is just content to follow. He doesn’t have anywhere to go anyway, no destination in mind. The only place he wants to go to is away.


	24. We Got Innocence For Days

#### Gerard

It was all Frank’s fault. Or at least that’s what Gerard will say to anyone who asked. Frank came up with the idea. So Gerard doesn’t have to take responsibility if it all goes wrong. It is a good idea though, why he didn’t think of it before, he doesn’t know. Seeing as they’re in the middle of nowhere with walking as the only mode of transportation, stealing a car seems like the perfect idea. They are already criminals and murders and on the run. What’s some grand theft auto on top of it?

He actually does know how to drive. Granted, he’s not very good at it and very much out of practice, but figuring that out turns out to be easier than actually stealing a car. It’s just like riding a bike, right? Once you learn, you never forget. Neither he or Frank have licenses, but Gerard figures that if he does manage to get them a car, getting stopped by the police is the least of his worries. Worst comes to worst, he could always mind control them. 

The keys jangle as he crosses the parking lot, heading toward the black SUV as if he owned it. It wasn’t difficult to convince the owner to give it to him, it just took a quick twist of his mind. The car unlocks with a beep as he climbs into the front seat, the faint smell of cigarettes and take out wafting out. 

The car is dirty but well loved. It’s not in bad condition either, even with the mud streamed over the black paint and the windshields splattered with who knows what. There’s even half a gallon of gas left in the tank, enough to get them out before the owner realizes what happened. Papers and wrappers are crumbled up on the floor, crushes cans and bottles rolling around. Gerard wrinkles his nose as he climbs in, brushing an empty plastic water bottle off the drivers seat. 

He’s been inside of a car a thousand times. Yet it feels so foreign, strange after so long. He’s almost afraid to rest his hands on the black leather of the steering wheel. Gerard’s hands shake as he puts the key into the ignition. He’s done this a million times before, when he used to drive himself and Mikey to school, to the grocery store, around wherever they wanted. Why is he so terrified of it now? 

The car jolts forward before Gerard slams down on the brake, his heart hammering in his chest. Shit. He had forgotten about that. He slowly lets up on the brake, letting the car roll forward as he settles back into the rut hum. He can do this. 

It takes him a few tries to get into the hang of it, Gerard almost taking off someone’s mailbox and clipping the side of a light post. Frank grips the seat, looking terrified, though Gerard can’t blame him. 

At long last, they’re cruising along the empty highway, speeding away from the small town. There’s been no sign of the guards or anyone after them other than the man who attacked him, but Gerard still wants to get as far away as possible. Then he can focus on finding Mikey. 

Frank’s asleep in the passenger, his head leaning against the window. Gerard glances over at him, a small smile on his lips as he watches the other boy. He almost reaches over the brush a loose strand of hair from Frank’s face before he remembers that he’s supposed to be driving. 

Where they’re going, Gerard has no clue. As far as he knows, they’re several miles away from any major cities. It’s a beautiful place, he has to admit. Mountains loom in the distance, bare peaks reaching toward the sky. Towering forests stretch in either direction as they cruise down the empty road. There’s no one in sight. Gerard has the urge to drive the car straight down the two yellow lines, so he does. What trouble is he going to get in anyway?

Gerard yanks the steering wheel as a truck speeds toward them in the opposite direction. Okay, maybe it wasn’t the best idea. But the thrill it gives him, the thrill of freedom, the power to do whatever he wants, is worth it. Frank winces as he’s jolted against the window, blinking awake. He stares out the windshield for a few moments, seeing how Gerard has drifted back into the center of the road again.

“You do know that the car is not supposed to go on the lines, right?” he grumbles, probably annoyed at being woken up so harshly.   
Gerard just grins, shaking his head, his tongue catching between his teeth. “Only for cowards,” he teases.   
“Well,” Frank groans. “Maybe be one? I’m trying to sleep.”  
Gerard rolls his eyes at the response. Before he even realizes what he’s doing, he’s reached over, grabbing Frank’s hand. Frank looks at him, his hazel eyes wide in surprise, yet he doesn’t move away, instead shifting so he can hold Gerard’s hand easier. His head rests against Gerard’s shoulder as he lets out a soft sigh. Gerard glances down at him, warmth spreading through his body, smiling uncontrollably as he looks back at the road. 

A few gallons of gas later, Gerard catches sight of the mountains, the bare rocks stretching toward the sky. It’s beautiful, so beautiful he can’t tear his eyes away from it. Majestic and looming, the mountains stretch toward the sky. Gerard suddenly longs to get out of the car and walk, to the middle of nowhere where he can never be found again. The freedom he would have there is alluring. And he’s tempted to, strongly tempted he has to admit. But he forces himself to focus on the road, driving until the mountains have faded into the distance even behind him. But they’re still there, every time he checks the rear view mirror. A promise.

It’s night time by the time Gerard finally pulls over. He can barely keep his eyes open, the car accidentally drifting a few times as exhaustion clouds his mind. Realizing that this really isn’t useful, Gerard pulls over on the side of the road. He has no clue where they are, but that doesn’t matter anyway. He leans over to the passenger seat, shaking Frank awake.   
“We’ve stopped,” Gerard informs him, stifling a yawn as he does.   
“Want me to take over?” Frank offers.   
“Do I trust you?” Gerard muses.   
“I can’t be worse than you,” Frank retorts. “You woke me up so many times.”  
“At least I’m of age.”  
“I’m seventeen, you dumbass. I can drive.”  
“Fine,” Gerard raises his hands in mock surrender. He pushes open the door, walking toward the passenger's side and handing Frank the keys. “Try not to kill us?”  
“No promises,” Frank grins as he starts the car. “Hope you get some sleep.”  
“Reassuring,” Gerard groans, but he leans back in the seat anyway, closing his eyes. He hears Frank humming something softly, but before he can decipher the familiar-sounding tune, he passes out.


	25. Run Up These Streets, Turn Up The Stereo

#### Frank

The days blur together. Rundown motels and leaky showers. Dirty glass panes and squeaky hinges in desperate need of oiling. Stale crackers and day-old sandwiches. The putrid smell of gasoline. Bitter, watered down coffee that probably tastes about the same as gasoline, but does the job. The constant droning from the radio, as he listens for more alerts, but there are none. And the endless, never ending road. 

Somedays, he wonders what they’re really doing, or if Gerard really has a destination in mind. Right now, it seems as if they’re just trying to move. To get as far away as they possibly can before they even try to figure out what to do next. But Frank doesn’t know where to go either, so he’s happy to follow Gerard, hoping that it’s not just a guise and Gerard really does know some place, somewhere safe. 

There’s been no sign of the guards, no trace of their pursuers. The lack of activity is almost bothersome. He wishes he could just pretend that they are actually in the clear, but he knows better than that. It simply means that the Facility is planning something, something bad. 

They switch out driving every so often, switch out cars whenever they can until Frank has lost track of how many they have stolen at this point. Oh well. They’re already in enough trouble, what’s a little bit more? What’s the worst that could happen to them now? Nothing worse than what’s already in store. 

He’s almost envious at times at how easy it is for Gerard, to go in, get supplies for them, get a new car, anything he wants with just a brush of his powers. At times, Frank almost feels like a burden, something useless that Gerard is dragging along. He wonders if Gerard feels the same way. After all, they haven’t talked, not for a while. 

Frank takes the night shift while Gerard takes the day, just driving and driving and driving. They stop at motels less, the only time they’re not on the road is when they stop for gas or food or other necessities. At this point, Frank’s pretty certain he’s going to lose his mind. Strangely, he’s lonelier than he was at the Facility. Whenever he’s awake, he’s alone as Gerard sleeps. And when he’s not driving, he’s asleep, unconscious in seconds. He wishes they would talk, or even wishes for some sort of distraction. At this point, he has the uncontrollable urge to steer the car off the bridge for just some entertainment. Somehow, he refrains himself from doing so. 

There’s not much to do in the long stretches of silence while Gerard sleeps, curled up in the passenger seat, his hood partially covering his face. Frank fiddles with the radio, trying to entertain himself. They’re too far from any towers at this point, the only sound coming from the speakers is scratchy static and the sound of a distorted voice every so often. Finally, he gives up, turning off the radio, staring at the slowly lightening sky. It’s too quiet in the car though, too quiet for his taste, so he starts to hum a quiet melody. His voice starts out broken and scratchy, but grows stronger and stronger as he lets the familiar song wash over his senses. 

“What are you singing?” 

Frank jumps, startled. The car swerves to the right before Frank manages to get it under control again before turning to stare at Gerard, who’s now awake.   
“Don’t do that!” Frank exclaims, his heart racing in his chest.   
“Sorry,” Gerard yawns, pushing himself into a sitting position. He blinks the sleep from his eyes as he peers out the windshield at the pale gray sky. “Need me to take over?”  
“I’m fine,” Frank responds. It’s the first real conversation they’ve had in so long and he’s desperate to keep it going.   
“You never answered the question,” Gerard remarks.   
“Oh, the song?” A blush creeps over Frank’s cheeks. “It’s nothing. Just a song my mom used to sing me.”  
“It’s pretty.”  
“Thanks, I guess,” Frank mutters. “It’s just that the radio—I think we’re too far to pick up anything, and the quiet—it was getting to me, I just—” he lapses into silence aware of the fact that he’s rambling.   
“Anything interesting?”   
“Just the usual,” Frank responds. “Lots of pavement and trees.”  
Gerard makes a small sound of amusement. “Sounds fun.”  
“Very much so.” Frank stifles a yawn.   
“You look exhausted. I’ll take over. It’s fine.”  
“You sure?” Frank asks.   
“Yeah, certain,” Gerard responds.   
Frank nods, blowing out a breath as he steers the car onto the side of the road. Popping the door open, he breathes in the cold, fresh air, refreshing after the stuffiness inside the car. Gerard meets him at the half way point as Frank hands the keys over to him.   
“You should have woken me up earlier,” Gerard chides. “It was my turn to take over an hour ago.”  
Frank shrugs. “It’s fine. You needed to sleep.”  
Gerard just shakes his head in response. He reaches over, moving to touch the side of Frank’s face before Gerard suddenly stops himself, withdrawing his hand. Frank freezes at the action, staring at Gerard before Gerard looks away.   
“If you keep doing that I’ll almost think that you care about me,” Frank mutters after a moment.  
“Yeah right,” Gerard scoffs. “Because I completely—” He looks like he’s about to say something else before he lapses into silence.

Gerard clears his throat at last. “You should get some sleep,” he says, still not looking at Frank. “I’ll drive, find us a motel or something, I don’t know.”  
“Okay,” Frank whispers.  
It was the deal he made with Gerard when they were in the Facility. Now he is just waiting for the day that Gerard tells him that they should go their separate ways. When Gerard disappears and Frank is left by himself.


	26. When All The Lights Go Out, Across These City Streets

#### Frank

There’s a cemetery next to the gas station. Strangely it seems fitting, the lonely stones sticking up in the overgrown grass, slowly crumbling away. Whoever was buried there had been dead for long and left forgotten; there is no one visiting the graves anymore. But there is a heaviness in the air, the birdsong quieting as if the world can sense the tragedy and death. 

Frank leans against the side of the car, keeping one eye on the road while he waits for Gerard to be done with whatever he’s doing to the cashier. He shivers, drawing his coat tighter around him. It’s cold out this morning, his breath coming out in white puffs of air. Frank checks his watch, the one that he’s unsure if it actually works or if it runs a few minutes slow. They found it in a donation bin, so it could be either of the two, but the second hand moves with a soft clicking noise, so they took it. It’s been over ten minutes. Frank glances back toward the gas station itself, wondering if enough time had passed that he should go in and see what’s happening. 

The gas station itself is decrepit and run down. Most of the windows are boarded up, the ones that aren’t are dark and grimy. Old spray paint and graffiti covers the walls, some of it gone as if someone half-heartedly tried to scrub it away, giving up after a while. The pavement is cracked, long grass poking through. Two pumps sit side by side, weeds growing around their bases, LED signs broken. It’s a miracle that they actually work. But they manage to siphon enough gas, at least they hope it’s enough to get them where they’re going. 

No other cars pass by the gas station as Frank watches. They really are in the middle of goddamn nowhere. Makes sense, seeing as they just escaped from a Facility meant for housing the most dangerous beings ever. But it does worry him. If they don’t get somewhere with more people, how soon will someone get suspicious? When else are there two teenage boys in the middle of nowhere, running away? 

Frank lets out another sigh, watching some small birds land near him. He watches them with some interest, staring at the wildlife. It’s been so long since he’s seen birds; he knows this species, they used to flit around in the trees in his backyard all the time. Back when everything was normal. So small and so fragile-looking, the birds hop nearer to him. They don’t seem to know about the danger, of what he can do. To them, he’s just another human, just another person standing there. They see him the exact same as anyone else, not as an escapee, not as dangerous, not as a monster, but as a human. 

Frank jumps as the shop door opens with a chime of bells as Gerard strolls out, his hands tucked in his pockets. He waves at Frank, holding up a wad of cash for him to see. Gerard doesn’t seem to be in much of a hurry as he unlocks the car door, sliding into the drivers seat. Frank watches him for a moment before he pulls open the passenger door, slamming it shut behind him. 

“I take it went well?” Frank asks.   
Gerard grins, turning the key in the ignition. He tosses his backpack into Frank’s lap, the cans clinking together. “Should be enough to get us a bit farther. Did you get the gas?”  
Frank nods. “Enough to get us farther,” he echoes. “Any trouble?”  
“You tell me.” Gerard seems to be in a peculiarly good mood. Something’s not quite right, Frank decides as he takes a closer look at Gerard, at the way his cheeks are flushed and his eyes are a tad bit too bright. There’s a trickle of dried blood coming from his nose, probably from when he used his powers.   
“What happened?” Frank asks cautiously. He doesn’t want Gerard’s mood to shift like it sometimes does, but Gerard simply shrugs.   
“Nothing. There wasn’t any trouble, it was fine.”  
Frank watches him for a few moments longer. “Can we just get out of here?” He glances over at the store another time, waiting to see the owner charging out of it.   
“Relax, it’s fine,” Gerard says as he shifts the car into drive.   
Frank glances over to, unsurprisingly, see the convenience store owner running toward them.   
“Maybe not,” Frank decides. He glares at Gerard who shrugs. “Get us out of here. Now.”  
“Your wish is my command,” Gerard responds as the car jolts forward, the tires squealing on the pavement as they speed into the distance. 

Frank watches in the rearview mirror as the owner skids to a stop in the center of the road, screaming something at them. A black van pulls into the gas station right behind them, just as they rush away. Frank doesn’t relax until the station has faded into the distance. He turns to Gerard, studying him in the dim light cast from the setting sun.   
“Did you not wipe his memory?”  
“Thought I did,” Gerard says. “Too late now.” It’s unlike him to be this careless, Frank notes as he watches Gerard for a few moments longer.   
“Is everything okay?” Frank asks softly. 

The seatbelt tightens around Frank’s chest as he’s thrown forward. He yelps in surprise, but Gerard simply stops the car on the side of the road, turning to look at him. 

Frank stares at Gerard, unsure whether to speak or not. The way Gerard is staring at him unnerves him.   
“Is everything okay?” he asks again.  
Gerard’s gaze flickers away and Frank can see how he’s shaking slightly. “Yeah,” he responds, his voice hoarse. Gerard clears his throat. “Everything’s great.” Frank doesn’t miss how Gerard’s hands are curled into fists by his side.   
“What happened in the station?” Frank probably shouldn’t press his luck, but he does so anyway.  
Gerard stares at him for a few moments longer before he looks away, brushing his sweaty white hair from his forehead. “Nothing,” he mutters. “Just—you wouldn’t get it.”  
“Try me.” Frank crosses his arms over his chest.   
“There’s something I should tell you,” Gerard says softly. “About me, about my powers, and everything. It’s only fair since I—”  
“You what?” Frank asks.   
“I’m sorry,” Gerard says again. “Frank, I’m really sorry, I didn’t mean to.”  
“What’s going on, Gerard?” Frank asks again. “You’re freaking me out.”

Gerard doesn’t say anything else, just gazes at him, his eyes meeting Frank’s, but neither of them looks away. Past the time that a normal person would have looked away, that anyone would have. But neither of them move. Frank can feel his heart racing as Gerard continues to watch him. He startles for a moment as Gerard reaches over, running his cold fingers over Frank’s cheek. But Frank doesn’t move away, can’t move away, entrapped in Gerard’s gaze. For a split second, he almost thinks Gerard is going to kiss him. But Gerard finally, pulls away, clearing his throat. 

“We should get going,” he says, pulling the car off the side of the road.   
“Right,” Frank mutters in response. He is grateful for the darkness, thankful for it hiding the blush in his cheeks. He gazes at the road in front of him, listening to the rumble of the engine as silence ensues. 

What this means, he has no clue. Maybe it doesn’t even mean anything. But still he watches Gerard as he drives, watches Gerard as they pull into a parking lot for a motel. He can’t stop watching as Gerard gathers their bags from the back of the car, slinging it over his shoulder. Not even as Gerard heads for the motel, not waiting for Frank. Maybe it’s nothing, but Frank has to admit that he desperately wants it to mean something.


	27. You’re Running After Something That You’ll Never Kill

#### Frank

His nightmares come back again.

He’s standing in the cold, where everything freezes over. Fire no longer burns in the darkness. Instead, the flames are frozen around him, traces of orange starkly painted against the canvas of blue and black. Ice slicks the rocks, a guttural laugh resounding through the cavern. His breaths come in puffs of white smoke, the only source of heat in the center of the Earth, the cold radiating around him. He shivers, the cold creeping down the name of his neck, frost curling over his fingers, turning his skin pale, his lips blue.

Then he sees it.

Great wings unfurl from the walls, half frozen as if about to take flight. They aren’t the wings of birds or angels, no these were bat wings, tight black skin stretched between the long fingers. Chains stretch from wall to wall, fettering the beast to the stone. The lower half of the beast is covered in shaggy fur, cemented firmly down into the ice. Three heads swivel toward him, grotesque eyes, wide mouths dripping with blood and torn flesh. _Beware_ , they whisper. _Betrayal is in the air, boy._

What betrayal the beast is talking about, Frank is pretty certain he knows. As if he couldn’t remember the faces of his parents as they spat at him. As they deemed him a monster, a traitor, something inhuman. 

Frank takes a trembling step forward, his hands clenched into fists by his sides, knuckles turning white. He hears a resounding crack before the ground disappears below him and he falls into the cold water. 

The ice seals over his head, freezing into a sheet of white as if it had been there all along. Frank pounds against the surface of the icy sheet above him, his palms sliding aimlessly against the slippery cold. Already, it’s harder to move, his fingers freezing over, numbness creeping through his limbs. He wants to give up fighting, the cold water weighing his limbs down. Maybe he should. Resign himself to his fate. Frank lets himself sink further down, his lungs aching. Just a few more moments, just a few more— 

A shadow flickers overhead, a figure kneeling down. The ice is broken away as Frank surges to the surface, coughing icy water from his lungs. Pale hands grip his arms, pulling him out of the water. Frank doesn’t have time to thank whoever it is, he’s too busy coughing up dark water. He crouches on the thin sheet of ice, shivering violently, frost still coating his fingers and hair. He gulps a few deep breaths before he looks up at his savior. 

Gerard stands in front of him, staring down at him, his eyes dark. It’s as if there’s no trace of recognition in his gaze, even though he just saved Frank. He doesn’t say a word, just stands there, watching, his gaze cool. 

Frank takes an unconscious step backward, hearing the ice creak as he does so.  
“Stay away,” Dream Gerard hisses. “It’s dangerous, too dangerous for you.”

The icy winds pick up around him, buffeting him from all sides as Frank struggles to keep his balance. _Traitor,_ they howl, but the voices seem far away, as if they aren’t talking to him. _Traitor. Liar. You’re going to betray the one you love._  
“What do you mean?” he calls, squinting to see the figure of Gerard through the winds. “Gee!”

Hands grab him roughly, pulling him backward as he falls, wincing as his shoulder jolts against the edge of the ice. Frank struggles against them, but his captor is too strong as Frank is pulled toward the beast. 

The weight is lifted all of a sudden and Frank is hauled to his feet. He looks up to see Gerard standing in front of him, his eyes the familiar shade of green.  
“What—” He’s cut off as Gerard kisses him, his lips cold against Frank’s. Frank freezes in surprise, shocked still as Gerard pulls away, his eyes turning dark and unreadable.  
“Get out of here,” he whispers, his voice broken and soft, so unlike it was before. Frank opens his mouth to say something but Gerard presses his hand to Frank’s chest, directly over his heart, giving him a little shove as Frank falls into the darkness. 

Frank’s eyes snap open as he sits up, or tries to at least. Someone is holding him, keeping him still. Frank shifts again, trying to get free. Pale light is filtering into the room through the thin drapes. It’s not quite dawn yet, but close.  
“Shh,” Gerard, the real Gerard, whispers. “You’re okay.”

Frank can’t do much else but bury his face in Gerard's shirt, his fingers clutching in the soft black fabric. Gerard smells of laundry detergent and coffee and Frank can feel the warmth from his body. Gerard hesitates, but before long, Frank feels fingers run through his hair, holding him close. He’s not certain if Gerard knows how affectionate he’s being. Gerard runs his fingers up and down Frank’s arm, tracing small circles on his shoulders. But he’s not going to protest. Frank closes his eyes, letting himself drift off again. 

Several hours later, Frank wakes up in Gerard’s arms. It’s still dark out as he blinks, trying to clear the remnants of sleep from his eyes. He shifts, trying to sit up before he realizes that there’s the warmth of another body pressed against his back. Gerard’s arms are wrapped around his waist, securing him in place. 

He tries not to think about the dream as he gently disentangles himself from Gerard, heading toward the shower. What it meant, he has no clue, but he decides not to dwell on it. There are more pressing matters on hand, he reasons, standing under the cold spray of the shower. He’ll deal with it later. 

A few cups of bitter, watered down coffee later, they’re on the road again, without a mention of the events earlier that morning. Frank is grateful for it as he steers, keeping his attention fixed onto the road. He worried that Gerard would ask him about it, but Gerard seems content with resting his head on his hand and closing his eyes. 

Frank sighs as he keeps one hand on the wheel. It’s a typical day, just like the ones that had followed before. Just the endless road and pavement stretching wherever he looked, the dark gray clouds looming above it, the heaviness of rain hanging in the air. There are no other cars except for a black van but they leave it in the dust after a few miles.

A couple of hours pass, enough for the sun to start to set. Frank tries to amuse himself as he drives, keeping an eye on the level of gas while he does. Ever since they siphoned some from the station, they haven’t had the chance to refill. Frank makes a mental note to tell Gerard when Gerard takes the next shift. 

The black van is still there, trailing them a few paces back. Frank glances into the rear view mirror again, a chill running down his spine. He casts a glance over to where Gerard is still asleep, wondering if he should wake him. 

Hesitantly, Frank flips on the turn signal, still watching the van. He relaxes slightly as he turns into the exit ramp, seeing the van continue along the highway. It takes a few more miles before Frank starts to relax, a few more hours before he’s cruising along again, the danger forgotten about and vanished. 

That’s when he looks into the rearview mirror and sees the familiar black van, trailing behind them again.


	28. We’ll All Dance Along To The Tune Of Your Death

#### Gerard

Thunder rumbles in the distance as Gerard peers out at the slate gray sky. 

They had to ditch the car; there was no time to get another one. Not when the guards were so close behind them. How they managed to catch up so quickly, Gerard has no clue. Maybe they weren’t being careful enough. Maybe it was just destiny that they were going to be caught. 

One second, he was asleep, no sign of the guards, no trace of their freedom disappearing. The next, Frank was urgently shaking him awake, an aura of dark red fear hanging in the air above him as he told Gerard the news.

Frank had pulled into a parking lot when he thought he had lost the van. But Gerard knew that the guards couldn’t have given up so quickly. No, it was more like they were waiting behind the next corner, just waiting for the next right to strike. Gerard couldn’t be annoyed with Frank, he saw the panic and the exhaustion. All he could do was mentally slap himself for being so careless. But now, there’s nothing he can do about it. The only thing left is to run. Again. 

It’s raining as they slosh through the puddles. Gerard winces as the cold water soaks through his sneakers, but he doesn’t slow his pace as he sprints across the water-soaked pavement, Frank hard on his heels. 

The city is deserted, but Gerard isn’t surprised. It is late at night on a rainy Thursday, after all. Who would want to be out? Certainly not him, but he wasn’t given a choice in the matter. 

He hears a shout behind him and doesn’t have to turn before he knows. He grabs Frank’s hand, pulling him along as they slip down the next alleyway, jumping over the fallen trash cans rolling across the pavement. 

They sprint down the next street, past the abandoned warehouses, the windows broken in. Gerard casts a glance at them as he runs by, looking for potential spots to hide. There’s no time to stop though, now with the guards so close on their heels. 

A gunshot rings out over their heads, a warning shot, but it still makes Gerard tense. They need to get somewhere safe and fast. Gerard hesitates before he ducks below the awning of a building, pulling Frank with him. They duck behind a wall, crawling along the side of it until they get to the edge of the building. 

_Stay close_ , he says in Frank's mind. Frank gives a little start, but he surprisingly doesn’t seem disturbed. Maybe it’s just the exhaustion and panic that’s not making him realize, but Gerard isn’t sure. He hates doing this but it's necessary. If the guards hear them, they are goners. As long as he doesn’t touch the memories or the frontal cortex of Frank’s mind he should be alright. Thoughts are a pretty surface level function, manipulating them isn’t difficult. It’s only the deeper things that Gerard has to worry about, or at least worry about not messing up. 

Footsteps sound past them and Gerard tenses he’s certain they can hear his heart hammering in his chest, from fear and from adrenaline, or the way he’s gasping for breath. But their footsteps fade away. 

Gerard lets out his breath as he glances over at Frank who nods tersely, his face pale in the wan light of the street lamps. He stands up slowly, wincing as his legs cramp. 

“There!”

It’s a single word but enough to send fear flashing through him. Gerard sees three shakes spin around, running toward them. Gunshots echo through the streets as Gerard hears the pinging of bullets as one takes out a chunk of wall next to his head. 

The guards are right behind them as they run, ducking into the next alleyway, illuminated faintly by the yellow lights of the street lamps. A rat skitters out of the way as Gerard runs, his arms pumping by his sides, his lungs aching. Footsteps echo through the alleyway, Frank’s, his own, and the guards. There’s nowhere to go, nowhere they can get to safety now, Gerard knows it. 

Gunshots fire behind him whizzing around them. There’s the sound of a loud pop close to his ear, too close. Gerard reaches his hand up at the stinging pain that flares through his ear, his fingers coming away wet with blood. It must have grazed him, the knowledge of how close it was making him sick to his stomach. 

Frank’s hand latches onto his arm as he pulls Gerard behind a wall. He sees purple energy flash as Frank blocks a wave of bullets, ducking being a wall just as the next wave ping against the metal of the trash cans. Gerard leans against the wall, struggling to catch his breath as he sees the shield flickering as little indentations flicker along the length of it, the pinging of bullets falling to the pavement sounding. If not for Frank, Gerard knows that he’d be dead already, shot through at least twenty times.

“Can you slow them down?” Gerard whispers into Frank’s ear. Frank gives a small jerk of his head as he closes his eyes. In the faint glow of purple light, Gerard can see the sheen of sweat on Frank’s forehead and the gleam of dark blood running down the side of Frank’s face, dripping onto his shirt. 

There’s a whoosh of air, one that makes Gerard flinch as the shield is thrown forward, the shooters shoved backward roughly. Frank sways slightly on his feet as Gerard tugs him along, running down the alleyway into the darkness. 

A bullet ricochets off of the wall, whistling right by his ear as he ducks. Gerard curses under his breath. He’d thought they would have more time. No time to look back now or think about it. Gerard turns the corner, his sneakers skidding on the wet pavement as he runs. There’s a chain-link fence at the end of the alleyway, looming closer and closer. They can’t turn back, there’s nothing left but death there. 

Making a split decision, he lets go of Frank’s hand, Gerard’s fingers closing around the cold, wet metal of the fence. The fence screeches and rattles as he pulls himself up, hearing shouts and footsteps echoing behind him. Gerard glances down, to see Frank motioning him to keep moving. He swings his legs over the top, the metal scraping against the pavement as he does so. Gerard takes a deep breath, closing his eyes before he lets himself fall. 

Pain shoots through his ankle, burning and sharp as he lets out a gasp of surprise. Gerard hears Frank hitting the pavement beside him as he ducks around the next corner hearing the fence rattling as bullets crash against it. He hears Frank let out a muffled grunt but when he turns to look over, Frank shakes his head, motioning for him to run. 

There’s a crowd forming nearby, onlookers watching with wide eyes at the commotion. Gerard sees the flashing red lights and the wail of sirens in the distance as he looks over at Frank.   
“What should we do?” Frank mouths to him. He looks exhausted, favoring his left side; Gerard can’t blame him, he’s worn out too. But they’re not safe yet, far from it in fact.  
Gerard hesitates, glancing around at the crowd, murmuring to themselves.   
“Run.”

So they do, Gerard pulling his hood up to hide his face. They push through the crowd, which parts easily in front of them, picking up their pace from a brisk walk to a jog, then to an all out sprint as they weave through the alleyways and streets, the green signs glowing in the glare of the traffic lights, dodging around cars, hearing honks and indignant yells, but not stopping, never stopping until the lights of the city have faded behind them. 

It’s only when they near a bridge, faintly illuminated by the highway and cars rushing by overhead that Gerard finally stops, doubling over as he gasps for air. His head spins, his vision going white as he struggles to collect himself again. Frank does the same thing, leaning heavily against the trunk of a tree and wincing. 

“I think we’re safe now,” Gerard says, turning to look over at Frank. 

Frank, who is clutching his hand to his side, his face drawn in pain, dark blood soaking through his shirt.


	29. I’m Not Going To Be The One Left Standing

#### Gerard 

“I’m okay,” Frank groans. From one glance, Gerard can tell he’s not. Dark blood is seeping from the wound where Frank’s hand is clutched over it.   
“You’re not,” Gerard says. He moves toward Frank, who waves him off.   
“I’ll manage,” Frank says through gritted teeth. “Let’s just find a motel or something.”  
“Seriously?” Gerard huffs. “You’re bleeding out.”  
“It’s fine,” Frank mutters.   
“Let me see at least,” Gerard argues.

Frank looks like he would have argued as he pushes himself upright, taking a step forward. But his knees buckle beneath him and Gerard rushes forward, catching him before he hits the ground. Frank’s head rolls back against his chest as Gerard shifts his grip, feeling Frank’s heart beating under his palm, quick and fast. 

He slips his arm under Frank’s, keeping the other boy upright as he steers them into the pale light of the streetlamp. Frank stumbles a few times as Gerard half-carries him until Gerard helps him lean against the stone wall of the bridge. Frank’s hand grips onto Gerard’s, Frank’s fingers wet with blood. It’s still raining, the downpour giving no sign of letting up. Gerard pushes his wet hair from his forehead as he kneels down beside Frank. 

There’s barely enough light here to see, but it will have to do. Gerard hesitates, his fingers hovering over the edge of Frank’s shirt as he waits for Frank to nod and let him know it’s okay to do so.

Frank’s skin is warm to the touch as Gerard carefully peels the soaked fabric away from the wound. Frank winces in pain, letting out a small noise of protest. Gerard pauses, glancing up at Frank before he continues, pulling Frank’s shirt up to reveal the gunshot wound in his side. 

The impact site is small, so small compared to the damage it’s done. Gerard forces himself to swallow his disgust and examine the wound more carefully. He can’t tell exactly how serious it is, but he knows it’s bad, from the amount of blood. 

Pink water is pooling around them, running down the sidewalk toward the gutter, the drain lapping it up eagerly. Frank suddenly looks small, so much younger, his hair plastered to the sides of his face, droplets of water gleaming on his skin. Cold water runs down Gerard’s skin as he wipes the water from his face, gripping the hem of his own sweatshirt. In one move, he pulls it over his head, leaving him in just his black t-shirt. It’s soaked through immediately, but Gerard doesn’t care, wringing his sweatshirt out before he presses it to the wound. 

“Fuck,” Frank hisses as Gerard presses down on the wound. “How bad is it?”  
Gerard hesitates, not wanting to lie, but not wanting to tell him the truth either. “It’s okay,” he says lightly. “You’re going to be fine.” But it sounds fake, even to his own ears. It’s bad, he knows it.   
Frank nods, letting his head rest on Gerard’s shoulder. “Okay,” he mumbles. 

Fear suddenly shoots through Gerard as he tilts Frank’s head up. “Hey,” he mutters. “Stay awake.”  
Frank nods again, but he still looks drowsy, his eyes half closed. Even from there, Gerard can see how Frank’s pupils are dilated, his face pale in the faint light.   
“You need to stay awake,” Gerard repeats, panic shooting through him. He reaches over, taking Frank’s wrist and pressing two fingers against it, feeling a weak pulse. Gerard shakes Frank gently. “Open your eyes. C’mon,” he says again. Gerard curses to himself, glancing at the road overhead. If he could get up there, maybe signal a car, get to a hospital, then maybe….  
Frank blinks blearily at him, his hazel eyes unfocused.   
“That’s it,” Gerard encourages as he stands up slowly, lifting Frank up, his hand supporting Frank’s head. “Keep your eyes on me.” Frank lets out a muffled grunt of pain and Gerard curses slightly.   
“Sorry,” he mutters. He shifts his grip pulling Frank’s arm over his shoulder so he can carry him better. He can feel Frank’s breath, warm against the side of his neck.  
“‘S okay,” Frank murmurs. His head rolls against Gerard’s shoulder as they start to move.   
“I’m going to get us someplace safe,” Gerard reassures. That’s what he’s going to do. But he’s not sure of where to go. There’s nowhere that they can go. Any hospital will call them in instantly. But—he hesitates, reluctant to move in the opposite direction. Frank is injured—he needs medical help and fast. Would it be worth it?   
“Don’t,” Frank mutters softly. Gerard glances down at him in surprise. He must have been voicing his thoughts out loud.   
“It’s not worth it,” Frank murmurs.   
“I’m not letting you die,” Gerard insists.   
Frank suddenly moves, as if struggling to get down, but Gerard only holds him tighter, clutching Frank’s small body.   
“Don’t,” Frank protests, but Gerard has already turned back toward the town. 

The sun is setting as he crosses the street, glancing around for any cars. There’s no one in sight, not even as he nears the town again, the streets looking familiar, yet foreign, so different than they did before. Frank shifts in his arms again, muttering something softly under his breath. Gerard rests his chin on Frank’s head, feeling the heat radiating from the other boy's forehead. He’s burning up, the blood showing no sign of stopping from where Gerard’s hand is pressed against the wound. The sweatshirt is already soaked through, Frank’s blood sticky and warm against his hand. 

“C’mon Frankie,” he whispers. “Stay awake. Please.” He can feel the sleepiness and pain radiating off of Frank, the dim colors of midnight blue and scarlet filling the air. Gerard picks up his pace as Frank doesn’t react, practically running through the parking lot to the emergency room door.   
He takes a deep breath before he walks through the sliding doors into the emergency room. Patrons look up, expressions ranging from shock to horror as someone makes a call at the desk.   
“My friend,” Gerard gasps. “He’s injured and—“  
He realizes that he can’t let go of Frank, his fingers still clenched stiffly around the limp form.   
“You need to let go,” a nurse says kindly. “He’s going to be okay. You just need to let us take him, alright?” Gerard nods, forcing himself to loosen his grip. Somehow they manage to take Frank away from him, setting him down on a stretcher. Seeing Frank lying there, so small and deathly pale, Gerard’s heart twists. He almost flings himself forward, not wanting to leave in fear that something might happen. But he forces himself to stumble away, watching Frank the entire time. “I do care about you,” Gerard whispers. “If you couldn’t tell. But I’m just too scared to admit it.” 

Maybe it’s his imagination but he thinks he sees Frank’s mouth twitch slightly before he’s taken away.


	30. I Never Said I’d Lie And Wait Forever

#### Gerard 

Now what to do? Gerard heads outside, leaning against a bench next to the road. He disappears, slipping outside before they can ask him any questions. Gerard really doesn’t want to explain to them why a nineteen year old came in, carrying a seventeen year old with a gunshot wound and how the hell that happened. 

He doesn't have any obligation to stay—Frank’s in good hands right now. He won’t die now, at least. What Gerard should do is get the hell away from here. They know what he looks like. The guards are probably on their way right now. 

But he doesn’t want to leave Frank, a part of him argues. What does Gerard owe him anyway? They were going to go their separate ways anyway, that was the deal. Gerard paces across the ground, watching the parking lot as he does. He almost wants to laugh at his own selfishness. Frank won’t die, probably not right now, but the entire point of escaping, it was so they wouldn’t be trapped in there anymore. Because being locked up was practically worse than death. 

But Frank. There is something about him, something that Gerard finds alluring, like a tether pulling him forward. Maybe it is all that they have been through together so far, all the time spent alone, just the two of them. Whether he wants to admit it or not, there is something. Something that makes his heart race when Frank looks over at him, something that makes him want to reach over, brushing the hair away from Frank’s face when he’s asleep, wants to protect him, wants to keep him safe. Something that makes him want to hold Frank when he sleeps, makes him bat to wake up beside him and comfort him. Something that makes him want to kiss him, all day long, all night long, to touch Frank and never let him go. It’s an unfamiliar feeling, one that’s not uncomfortable, but still strange. He hasn’t felt this way in a long, long time. Gerard honestly hates the feeling but there is no denying that it’s there. Well, fuck. 

Gerard shakes his head, trying to clear his mind. He finds himself walking toward the town, chewing the inside of his lip as he walks. Although he does want to stay, he knows he can’t. Hanging around will arouse suspicion and suspicion is the last thing he needs right now. Cutting through the woods behind the hospital, he finds himself at the edge of the town. He knows he’s covered in Frank’s blood, his black t-shirt soaked through with it, so he finds another donation box, rooting through it until he finds an old green jacket. It’s a bit big, but it’ll do. He zips it up, hoping it will disguise the disturbing smear of scarlet, dried blood down the front of his shirt. Maybe it will help him stop thinking about it too. 

Second order of business. Gerard finds a coffee shop. The minds there glow with fervent purple concentration and blue relief and joy, voices buzzing, both internal and external, both of which he blocks out as best as he can. He keeps his hands in his pockets and his head down as he weaves through the crowd, heading toward the restroom. He hopes that there isn’t any visible blood on his face. If someone stops him, he’s not sure how he will explain it away. After all, he does look like he just murdered someone. 

Luckily, there isn’t a line to the restroom. Looking around anxiously, Gerard pushes the door open, watching the fluorescent lights flicker on. He reaches out with his senses, searching for a hint of another mind, but there isn’t anyone but him in the dimly lit bathroom. 

The tap squeaks as he turns on the faucet, letting the cold water run over his already cold hands. Blood slowly freshens, running down his fingers and wrists, turning the water pink. He uses way more of the orange dispenser soap than he means to, trying to scrape Frank’s dried blood off his skin. Even as he scrubs, it doesn’t seem to come off, the pink water running off of his hands. There’s just more and more, leaking off of his skin, a never ending flood. His fingernails are caked with more blood and dirt, the white porcelain of the sink turning scarlet as trails of pink blood run down toward the drain. 

Gerard sighs, staring at himself in the mirror. As soon as the water runs mostly clear, he shuts off the faucet, reaching for a paper towel instead, wetting it with the last few drops. He wipes his face, the paper towel coming off smudged with more dried blood and grime, so he has to reach for another, then another one as the layers of blood and dirt come off of his skin. His blond hair is matted with blood and dirt, so he tries to clean it as best as he can, though it proves challenging without a comb. Gerard settles for running his fingers through it instead, grateful for how short it is. He’s going to have to redye it soon, this disguise has worn through its usefulness now. 

At last, Gerard looks himself over in the dirty bathroom mirror. He looks exhausted and pale, dark circles under his eyes. There’s still dirt smudged across his forehead and if he looks closely, he can see dried flakes of scarlet still staining his skin. But it will have to be good enough. Checking the time, he sighs. Surgery can’t be done that quickly can it? It’s only been half an hour. Anyway, it’s not like he’s going back, right? That’s what he promised himself, he wasn’t going to be slowed down. 

Gerard shakes his head, trying to clear his thoughts as he pushes his way out of the restroom, wrapping his green jacket around him tighter. He orders a coffee, pretending that he’s just another customer. All the while, he glances around him, keeping a watch out for anyone that could be a guard. He looks so different from the wanted posters he doubts anyone will recognize him. No one has even given him a second glance; there are no spikes of olive green doubt or bright red wariness in anyone’s mind. 

Gerard tucks his hands into his pockets after he finishes his coffee, heading out into the bustling street. As he stands at the walkway, waiting for the pedestrian light to turn, he hesitates. If he turns now, he could go back to Frank. But he needs to find Mikey, right? Still, he can’t just leave Frank behind, that wouldn’t be right of him. Leaving Frank there would mean capture for Frank, but Gerard might be able to get free. If Gerard goes back, he risks the chance of being captured and breaking his promise to his brother. But at least his conscience would be clear. Gerard grits his teeth, unsure of what to do. 

What he wants to do is run. Away from the possible danger. Away from his feelings and the confusion that Frank is causing for him. It’s terrifying and he wants to revert back to his old methods, hiding and pushing everything away. It’s easier than dealing with the potential feelings and the conflict that comes with it. But he somehow can’t make himself. 

His dilemma is soon solved as he hears the wail of sirens as two cars whiz by him, heading toward the hospital. As he takes the first step into the street, he knows what he’s going to do.


	31. Don’t Ever Think I’ll Make You Try To Stay

#### Frank

It’s bright out when Frank opens his eyes. He pushes himself up from the dusty ground, staring at the world around him. Maybe he’s mistaken, but he is pretty certain that he was not anywhere near the ocean a moment ago. Frank frowns, trying to remember, but he can’t recall anything past the time of just waking up. _Strange,_ he thinks to himself, yet somehow it doesn’t bother him. Frank turns his gaze out to the ocean instead. 

Whatever ocean it is, Frank has no clue. He’s pretty certain he’s never seen one like this before. He stands, mesmerized by the crashing waves, the water a dark vivid shade of gray, the rolling crests of the waves turning paler as they crash onto the boulders below him. It stretches on to the horizons, never ending, just a sea of gray and white. 

It’s bright here, wherever here is, abnormally, almost painfully bright. Frank looks down at his own pale skin, washed in the strange glowing light. There are no shadows, nothing to block the bright beams of sunlight. He almost wishes he has a pair of sunglasses or at least something to shield him from the glare. But the glow from the light cascades down onto the rocks, filtering through the water, bringing out small hints of dark blue in the turbid gray depths. It’s beautiful here. Frank wants to stand here, staring at the ocean forever, bathed in the warm glow and bright light. But there’s something wrong.

 _Am I dead?_ he wonders. He might as well be. The thought pops into his mind, but as he tries to think of a reason for it, he can’t. Something must have happened, he reasons, something, but he can’t remember what. 

The ground starts to tremble around him, shaking wildly. Above him, the glow grows brighter and brighter, even though Frank is pretty sure that’s nearly impossible. It pulses, expanding outward as Frank squints, shielding his eyes as the light seems to consume everything around him, glowing brighter and brighter and brighter until there’s nothing and he’s falling. 

_Open your eyes,_ a voice whispers in his ear. _Frankie, wake up._ He tries to heed the voice and open his eyes, but it’s as if they are wired shut as he struggles. At last, Frank gives up, sinking further into the darkness. 

It’s the beeping that finally wakes him. Groggily, Frank opens his eyes, seeing pale light washing over him. He stares at the curtain fluttering overhead in the breeze from the open window, the bright blue stark against the white and grays. He swears he heard a voice, a familiar voice, but he can’t remember who it was or what was said. In front of him, a hazy shape seems to stand, arms crossed, but as Frank tries to focus on it, it disappears as if it was never there. 

Frank blinks a few times, feeling disoriented as he tries to clear the haziness and confusion from his mind. He glances around the small room he’s in. As he shifts his arm, he winces, glancing down. Tubes are connected into his right arm, monitors flashing beside him, steady lights and numbers flashing. He’s in a hospital. How did he get here? The last thing he remembers is the gunshot, then Gerard—

Gerard. Panic flashes through him at the memory. Frank strains to sit up, wincing as bright spots flash before his vision. It’s as if floodgates open in his mind, memories pouring in. Running through the alleyway, the sharp burning pain in his side. Collapsing under the bridge. The astounding amount of blood, terrifying even. He didn’t know he could even bleed that much. Then Gerard, Gerard carrying him even as he protested, the bright lights of the hospital and the blurry faces of people hovering over him. The pain, the burning pain, and struggling to breathe. Gerard’s lips moved as he said something, but at that point, Frank was barely conscious, not conscious enough to figure out what was being said. Then there was a beeping noise, low murmured voices, a bright light and something being lowered over his face, then finally, sweet, sweet nothing. 

Frank looks down at the hospital gown he’s dressed in, the coloring reminiscent of the uniforms at the Facility. He lifts the hem of it, seeing the edge of a blood-soaked bandage. So that’s what must have happened. He must be pumped with painkillers cause he doesn’t feel anything, just a slight discomfort. 

A cursory glance around the room is enough to confirm his suspicions, his heart sinking. Gerard is gone. He left. Frank leans back against the cushions, closing his eyes. Frank tries to ignore the stinging in his heart. Gerard saved his life. There wasn’t anything else he had to do. That was the deal that they made so long ago in the Facility. 

Frank lifts his hands up, or at least tries to. There’s a strange rattling and a pull on his wrist as he looks down, realizing that his wrist is chained to the bed. It’s a thin chain attached to the cuff, but he knows that he won’t be able to break it. Fear shoots through him as he tugs harder to no avail. They know. 

“Yeah, he’s over here.” The voice of a nurse echoes through the hallway. He can hear the high heels clicking on the tile floor along with several heavier sets of footsteps. Guards. Three of them it sounds like. Frank glances wildly around the room, searching for something that he can use to break the chain or pick the lock, anything to get out, but there’s nothing in arms reach, nothing nearby. Frank tenses, preparing himself to fight. He’s not sure how much he will be able to, but he’s going to try. Faint purple energy warbles around his hands before his head spins and he sinks backward onto the bed, spots dancing in front of his vision, gasping for breath. That wasn’t a good idea, he chides himself. But what else is he supposed to do? 

A nurse enters the room, not looking at Frank as he busies himself with the table. There’s the clinking of something as the nurse sets down a clear syringe, filled with something. Frank swallows nervously as he sees it, wondering what the hell it is. He glances toward the hallway anxiously, knowing that the guards are going to appear any second. But that won’t matter if whatever is in the needle gets injected into him. There’s no place to run.

Frank pulls harder on the cuff, wincing as the thin metal digs into his wrist. He spares another glance at the door, expecting them to appear at any moment. Any second now, he tells himself. Any second now. Frank shrinks back, freezing, as he sees a guard looming in the doorway. Shit. 

But the guard’s gaze passes directly over him as the guard turns, heading down the hallway followed by the other two and the nurse. Frank lets out the breath he was holding as they pass down the hallway, disappearing out of sight.

“What the hell?” he mutters, his heart hammering in his rib cage. “How did that—” There is no way they didn’t recognize him. Unless—  
He lets out a choked gasp as the nurse turns around, lowering his mask.   
“Maybe because of me?” Gerard asks, a smile playing across his lips.


	32. We’re Believers, I Believe Tonight

#### Frank

Frank isn’t sure whether to hug him or smack him. 

He kind of wants to do both. But the fact that Frank is tethered to the bed sort of rules out both options, so Frank is left with the only option left, staring. He almost wants to cry, with the relief flooding him. He can’t quite believe the fact that Gerard is here. He didn’t leave after all.  
“How?” he asks, stumbling over his words. “You’re—how are you here?” For a second, he’s almost afraid that he’s imagining Gerard being here. Gerard, who is standing before him, wearing blue scrubs that are a few sizes too big, yet grinning all the same.  
Gerard comes over, a set of keys dangling from his hand. “We don’t have long. I messed with the nurse and the guards. They will figure it out soon.”  
“Why did you come back?” Frank asks. “You could have just gone. You should have. Now we’re both gonna get caught. I thought you said that if we got into trouble you weren’t coming back to help me.”  
Gerard frowns, poking his tongue out slightly as he kneels beside the bed. He takes Frank’s wrist gingerly, avoiding the chafed and red skin. Gerard turns it slightly so he can unlock the restraints easier. “Yeah, well,” he says, not looking up. “I almost did. I just couldn’t leave knowing you needed my help.”  
“Well thanks,” Frank says, his face heating up slightly. He lets out a sigh of relief as the cuff comes free, wincing as he examines the skin on his wrist, rubbed raw. Frank sneaks a glance over at Gerard, who is busy examining the tangle of wires and tubes coming from Frank’s bed.  
“I really don’t want to mess with this,” Gerard mutters. “I am definitely going to screw something up if I do.”  
“Just do it,” Frank sighs. “It’s this or the guards are going to catch us.” 

Gerard shakes his head, muttering something under his breath about Frank’s carelessness, but he does so anyway, carefully maneuvering wires and tubes out of the way. Frank watches as he does so, wondering in how many ways this could go wrong.  
“Okay,” Gerard says after a moment. “Give me your arm.” Frank stares at him apprehensively, extending his arm so Gerard can take a better look at the IV.  
“Where did you go?” Frank asks, trying to distract himself.  
“Around the town,” Gerard responds simply. “Couldn’t stay here, that would have been too suspicious. You already were suspicious enough.”  
“Thanks,” Frank lets out a hollow laugh. “I wasn’t the one who decided to go to the hospital.”  
“Well I couldn’t very well let you just bleed out on the street, could I?” Gerard snaps. He holds Frank’s gaze for a moment, a moment too long to be comfortable.  
“Just forget it.” Frank looks away, feeling his skin prickle. _You made it very clear when we were still in the Facility, _he wants to snap. _That you didn’t give a damn about me after we were free._ But he keeps his mouth shut. Pissing Gerard off right now would not be a good idea. __

__Frank hisses in pain as Gerard eases the needle out of his skin, a bit rougher than necessary, hearing the IV dropping to the floor. “Ow,” he mutters, rubbing the spot with his free hand.  
“Sorry,” Gerard responds, not sounding particularly apologetic. “Pull up your shirt.”_ _

__Yeah, that was not at all what Frank was expecting. He gapes at Gerard for a moment, shocked. Gerard just stares back with a level gaze, raising an eyebrow and making a motion with his hand like get on with it. Frank pushes himself up slowly, unbuttoning the hospital gown, the cold air hitting his bare skin. Different colored wires run from over his collar or under the sleeves, taped across his chest and arms. Monitoring his heart rate, he realizes, following their path to the green line bouncing up and down on the monitor.  
“The heart monitor is going to start beeping as soon as I take the electrode out,” Gerard explains. “Can you walk?”  
“I don’t know,” Frank responds.  
Gerard nods, coming closer. His cold fingers brush over Frank’s skin as he examines the taped down leads. Frank shivers as Gerard’s fingers brush gently over his collarbone, then down his arm, hoping that Gerard doesn’t see how much he’s blushing. Thankfully, Gerard doesn’t seem to notice as he helps Frank swing his legs over the side of the bed. It stings briefly, when Gerard untapes most of the electrodes, leaving the one below his left collarbone, directly above his heart. _ _

__“I have a change of clothes.” Gerard hands him a bundle, turning so his back is facing Frank. “Change quickly.”  
“Thanks,” Frank says gratefully, glad he has something other than a stupid hospital gown. He winces, a sharp pain shooting through his side as he pulls on the t-shirt and jeans. It’s awkward, trying to maneuver around the wire, but he manages to successfully, wincing as he bends over to lace up his sneakers. Gerard hands him a black sweatshirt which he takes gratefully, wrapping it around himself. _ _

__With Gerard keeping a steady hand on his back, Frank stands up slowly, gripping Gerard’s arm for support, feeling his head spin slightly. He doesn’t even have time to protest before Gerard slips a shoulder under his arm, supporting most of his weight.  
“Ready?” He murmurs. Frank nods, trying to keep himself upright while at the same time his heart is racing from being this close to Gerard. _ _

__Before he can even flinch, Gerard leans closer, kissing him softly as the monitor starts to wail in alarm, the electrode dropping to the floor. Frank freezes, shocked before Gerard cups Frank’s face in his hand, tilting his chin up. His lips are soft against Frank’s as he kisses him gently. It’s soft and sweet, as Frank practically melts into the kiss. Frank wraps his hand around Gerard’s back, trying to pull him closer, his other hand gripping the railing of the bed as he rolls up on his toes, wanting more._ _

__As Gerard pulls away, Frank stares at him with wide eyes. He sees Gerard smile slightly at his shocked expression, knowing that his face must be bright red.  
“What are you waiting for?” Gerard asks, a smug look on his face. “Let’s go.”_ _

__Nothing, Frank thinks as they run down the hallway, Gerard supporting him most of the way. Absolutely nothing._ _


	33. Hide Your Eyes, We’re Going To Shine Tonight

#### Gerard

There’s no color here. Or what little color is washed out, dull even. Dull gray surrounds him, the sky hanging low with heavy clouds, the taste of rain in the air. The dark pavement stretching on in front of him, interrupted by the occasional car whizzing by, illuminating him in the white or red glow of headlights and taillights. There’s no one else in sight, no one’s emotions to bring a speck of color into Gerard’s view. Gerard sighs as he glances around, at the dark brown of the bark on the trees, soaked wet from the nonstop drizzle that had been ongoing for the last few hours. He’s freezing, soaked to the bone, his fingers numb as he tucks them farther into his sleeves.

If he had a paintbrush and bucket of paint, he would color in the sky, painting bright oranges or vibrant yellows. Something happy, he decides. Anything really, to get rid of the gray. He’s had enough of gray, enough for a lifetime. Gray was the color of the Facility, was the dark emptiness, the loneliness inside. He had thought that as soon as they were free, they’d be free from the gray, that there would be more color. But it’s as if all the color has leached from the world, swirling down the drains with the rainwater, reds, oranges, yellows, blues, swept away in the midst of a flood.

They managed to make it far before Frank collapsed, or at least far enough away. Far enough so the sound of sirens faded in the distance and they could catch their breaths. The toll from the wound and running so soon after surgery must have exhausted Frank. Gerard managed to catch him just before he hit the ground. As soon as he could get them under cover, Gerard pulled up the edge of Frank’s shirt, he noticed that the white bandage covering the wound was soaked in blood again. He must have torn his stitches when they were running. 

Now, Gerard walks along the empty highway, barely covered by the trees, carrying Frank as he nears the town. If he remembers correctly, there might be safety here. At least for a little bit, enough time for Frank to recover and then to decide what to do next. 

It becomes evident that they’re getting closer, more and more cars driving by them. The familiarity of it all sends a pang through his heart, as he intuitively turns, knowing where to go. As they near the city, Gerard pulls his hood up, hoping it will obscure his face enough from view. It has been over a year. Would anyone recognize him? Still, he isn’t willing to take the chance. 

The streets are familiar, painfully familiar as he walks, a dark shape illuminated by pale streetlamps. He used to do this all the time when he was younger, when he had all the time in the world. Now, as much as he would like to stop and watch the stars, he can’t. He needs to get someplace safe.

Gerard hesitates at the next crosswalk, his gaze flickering across the dark streets. If it was a year ago, he would take a left, heading toward the familiarity of his old house. But it’s not a year ago, it’s now and so much has changed in that time. He doesn’t even know if the house is still there, let alone who is living in it now. So he takes a right, heading down the alleyways until the traffic and stop lights fade away and he’s walking in the darkness. 

Every sound makes him jump as he walks, stepping over the places in the sidewalks where gnarled roots poked their way up from the cracked pavement. Tree branches rustled overhead, whispering a warning. Gerard shivers as the wind blows by. If they get caught now, they really are doomed. What if he got the address wrong? They need to get someplace safe, and now. He picks up his pace until he’s standing in front of a tall brick building, the lamp in front casting a warm, golden glow. 

Gerard has only been here a few times. They never came here, in favor of staying at Gerard’s house, which was bigger and nicer. But he’s certain that this was the place. Everything is familiar, from the tattered green awning above the front door, to the old welcome mat and the bikes locked to the black railing outside. Even as he gazes up at the building, he can’t help but smile slightly, seeing the familiar flags hanging in the upstairs window, and in the highest window, a soft glow from under a curtain. 

A blast of warm air hits him as he steps into the foyer. He holds his breath as he rings the doorbell for apartment four, glancing out at the dark street anxiously. Frank is small, but he seems to be growing heavier by the minute. Or maybe Gerard’s arms are just getting tired. He shifts his grasp on Frank a little, his arm going numb. Frank lets out a small groan, making Gerard curse silently under his breath. He can see the blood soaking through Frank’s shirt, more of it than before, the sight of it making his stomach turn in knots.

Gerard taps his foot against the ground, counting silently to himself. Fifteen. Sixteen. Seventeen. There’s still no response so he presses the doorbell again. Twenty nine. Thirty. He tugs on the door handle, unsurprisingly finding it locked. Forty three. Forty four. Forty five. If no one answers—Gerard doesn’t want to think about that. There’s nowhere else, and if no one is in the apartment that might mean that— 

Gerard shakes his head, turning to go, his heart sinking. What to do now? His hand touches the cold handle of the outer door just as he hears the beep and the familiar voice say, “Who is it?” 

Relief floods through him, making him choke back a sob. It’s been so long, so long so since he’s heard this voice. He managed to, even after he had almost given up all hope, he managed to hold up his promise. 

He takes a deep breath, almost choking up as he says the words, the words he has longed to say for so long. “It’s me. Mikey, it’s me.”


	34. Make A Wish When Your Childhood Dies

####  Gerard 

Needless to say, Mikey is shocked. Gerard would have laughed if the situation hadn’t been so dire. Instead, he drums his fingers against his knee anxiously, glancing at the glowing numbers as the elevator inches higher and higher. He’s never been claustrophobic before, but he can’t stand being in the elevator, the tiny fucking walls seemingly pressing closer and closer around him. 

Gerard closes his eyes, trying to control his breathing as he sits on the floor, Frank in his lap. It’s too much for him to deal with right now, with the adrenaline pumping through his veins. The fact that Frank is literally bleeding to death in his arms and the fact that Gerard’s shirt is wet with blood is sending him into spirals of panic all over again. And the stupid tiny elevator isn’t helping at all as it trembles and creaks, definitely about to fall right now. If the goddamn thing stops one more time, Gerard knows he’s just going to lose it. He could probably scale the building faster than this. The mental image of Mikey throwing him a rope ladder springs into his mind and he has to swallow a laugh. 

It’s agonizing, the wait as Gerard stares at the gray metal, his own distorted reflection staring back at him. At last the metal door creaks open, revealing the shocked face of his brother.   
“Holy—” Mikey starts, taking the two of them in.   
“Help me, will you?” Gerard asks. There’s so much else he wants to say, but now’s not the time. Mikey stares at him for another few moments before he nods, moving forward. It’s much easier to carry Frank now, Gerard gripping him under the arms while Mikey grabs his ankles, hoisting him up. 

It takes a few minutes, a shit ton of cursing and Gerard tripping over the edge of a carpet before they manage to lower Frank onto the couch of Mikey’s apartment in the darkness of the living room. Gerard lets out a breath of relief, stretching his sore and cramping arms. 

Even in the dim light, Frank looks deathly pale, his chest rising and falling faintly. Gerard rests two fingers against Frank’s wrist, feeling Frank’s faint pulse beating lightly against his fingers. Mikey runs to get a first aid kit, flicking on the lights as he does so. 

Gerard squints at the blinding fluorescent lights, glancing briefly around the living room area that he’s in. It’s messy, but well-lived in for sure. Shoes are piled near the door, almost none of them on the actual shoe rack. Random post-it notes and papers are taped up around the room, reminders and chore lists, Gerard realizes. Two desks are in the corner, books and papers piled on top. A radio sits in the corner, a long scratch running across the cheap plastic. The living room connects to the kitchen and dining room area, all of it one giant space. Giant windows span the side of the wall, from floor to ceiling, thin drapes covering them. As Gerard watches, he sees a few cars drive by, but thankfully, there is no sign of the authorities. 

The sound of footsteps signals Mikey’s return as he runs in, breathless, handing Gerard a white first aid kit. Gerard doesn’t waste any time in pulling open Frank’s blood soaked shirt, wincing at the state of the bandages. Carefully, he unwraps them, apologizing profusely as Frank makes a small noise of discomfort.   
“Sorry, sorry,” he whispers, smoothing the hair away from Frank’s face, even though he knows that Frank can’t hear him. Frank’s burning up, his skin hot to the touch, his eyelids flickering as he shifts. Gerard places a wet towel on Frank’s forehead, hoping it will keep him cool, at least long enough to deal with the gunshot wound. 

He sucks in a breath as he examines the wound, the feeling of nausea rising in his throat. It’s bad, he can tell that, really bad. Fresh blood is welling up around the line of neat white stitches in the puckered, red skin, some of them torn.  
“That doesn’t look good,” Mikey remarks.  
“It doesn’t,” Gerard agrees, unnecessarily. He feels uneasy about doing this, since he really knows nothing about first aid.  
“Should we call an ambulance?” Mikey asks.   
“We just got away from the hospital,” Gerard says grimly. Mikey seems to remember, growing quiet beside him. 

Gerard takes a deep breath as he takes the kit from Mikey, his hands shaking. It’s simple, simple enough, he tells himself. Just bandages, antibiotics, thread and… needles.   
“Where did you get a suturing kit?” Gerard asks.   
Mikey shrugs. “Just in case. You know, if something goes wrong,” he responds, which leaves Gerard with possibly even more questions than he started with.   
“Do I even want to know?” Gerard mutters to himself.  
“Best not to ask,” Mikey answers.   
“Probably,” Gerard agrees. He wipes away as much of the blood as he can with a wet towel, trying to be as gentle as possible. 

“It’s pretty simple,” Gerard says, more to himself than Mikey. He takes the needle, feeling like he’s about to throw up. He _hates_ needles, absolutely hates them. Like, really, really, really hates them.   
Mikey watches him for a few moments. “Want me to do it?” he asks softly.  
Gerard nods, handing it over to him gratefully. He sits by Frank, watching as Mikey heats the needle up over the flame. Sterilizing it, that’s what he said. Nausea forces its way through Gerard as Mikey comes over, threading the needle.   
“You can go, if you want,” Mikey says. “Believe it or not, I’ve done this before.”  
“Again, I really don’t want to know,” Gerard mutters.   
“Well, if you’re going to stay, you can hold him down,” Mikey instructs. “Or he might wake up.”  
“Wake up?” Gerard stares at him.   
“Well, yeah?” Mikey responds. “It kinda hurts, ya know, getting stitched up.”  
Gerard stares at him for a few moments longer before he nods. “Okay then,” he says. “What do I need to do?”

He does as Mikey instructs him to, holding Frank down as carefully as he can. Gerard keeps his eyes tightly pressed shut, hearing the snip of scissors every so often as Mikey cuts a thread. He tries to turn his thoughts somewhere else, somewhere that doesn’t have any needles or any blood, or anything bad, but it’s hard to. All he can think about is what is going on, just a few inches away from him. 

Even with his eyes closed, he can hear the familiar buzz of Mikey’s mind, a quieter one of Frank’s. Mikey’s is so familiar, bright and welcoming as it always was. The presence is comforting to Gerard. For his entire life, he had always been around Mikey’s mind, their thoughts and actions always being one, until Gerard was taken away. Now, it’s as if no time had passed and that they were right back to where they started. 

“It’s done,” Mikey says at last. Gerard opens one eye, then the other as he sees Mikey disposing of a pair of blood covered gloves. He tries not to think about how much blood there is, on the gloves, soaked into the towels and the couch as he carefully bandages the wound. 

Gerard has to go outside afterwards, closing his eyes and leaning against the soaked bark of a tree. It takes him a few minutes, a bit more than a few minutes, before he’s able to stand up on mostly steady legs and head back into the building. 

Frank, thankfully, is still unconscious, the entire operation seemingly not disturbing him. Gerard watches him for a few more moments, tucking a loose strand of hair behind Frank’s ear. He makes himself comfortable on the floor beside the couch, leaning his head against the armrest. 

Gerard hears the shower shut off as Mikey enters the room, toweling off his brown hair, a steaming mug in his hand. Mikey looks almost exactly the same. But older, Gerard realizes with a start. He’s taller too, taller than Gerard is now, grown out of his childhood, now standing there, still gangly, but no longer a child in need of protection. 

“So, care to explain?” Mikey asks at last. “You’ve been gone for a year and now you’re back, dragging a half-dead boy with you. I don’t know exactly how I’m gonna explain this to Ray”  
“I could,” Gerard says. “But it might take a while.”  
“I have all night,” Mikey sighs. “Or at least until calculus starts.”  
Gerad grimaces. “I guess I better get started then. Well I—Is that coffee?”  
“Still addicted?” Mikey groans, but he hands Gerard the coffee anyway, watching as Gerard takes a sip, letting the bitter taste wash over his tongue.   
“Where to begin?” Gerard muses. “Well it all started when I was taken away….”


	35. If You Would Call Me A Sweetheart, I’d Maybe Then Sing You A Song

#### Frank 

Frank wakes up in a room he doesn’t recognize. For a moment, he blinks disoriented at the white ceiling. Light is streaming in through the windows, obscured by the thin blinds. Every so often, he hears the soft sound of voices and the clinking of utensils. Frank tries to turn his head, but the simple motion makes his head throbs and he stops after a moment. He’s too exhausted to keep his eyes open for long. After a moment, his eyelids droop again and he’s drifted off into sleep again. 

In his dreams, he’s running again. From what, he’s unsure. All he knows is that he’s running and running, trying to find safety but unable to. Gunshots echo in the distance, but it’s as if they’re distorted, muted even. He turns the corner, jumping over a fallen trash can as he runs down the alleyway, the street lamps flashing as he runs by, his sneakers splashing in muddy water, cold water soaking through the cuffs of his jeans. As he nears the fence, it’s as if everything drops away. Suddenly, Frank’s on the ground, the sky stretching over him. There’s pain, a flash of purple, then strong arms holding him up as the lights of the highway fade in the distance until there’s nothing left. 

The next time he wakes, he wakes for good. He’s still in the same room, though it’s dark out this time, pale light from the streetlamps filtering in through the blinds. Frank props himself up slightly, wincing as he does so. At least he can somewhat see around him in the messy room. The shadowy shapes of a dining room table and kitchen counter are to his left in right. He’s in what seems to be the living room, lying on a couch, blankets and pillows piled around him. 

“Hey.” Frank looks over to see Gerard sitting in a chair beside the couch. Gerard slides off the chair, kneeling down beside him. “How are you feeling?”  
“Kinda shitty,” Frank croaks. His throat is dry, his voice hoarse from not using it for a while. Gerard wordlessly hands him a plastic water bottle, helping him sit up slightly, propping him up on some pillows so he can drink. He drains the bottle, coughing slightly as he inhales, trying to drain the last few drops, crushing the flimsy plastic.  
“Careful,” Gerard says, a bemused expression on his face as Frank tosses the now empty water bottle to the ground. He helps Frank lie down again.  
“What happened?” Frank asks. “What day is it?”  
“We were running,” Gerard explains, resting his head on his hands. “You collapsed so I brought you here. It’s my brother's and my friend’s apartment. As for the day, you’ve been out for two days.”  
“Two days?” Frank exclaims. He tries to sit up, then regrets it as pain flares in his stomach. He’s flat on his back, gasping in pain in a second, Gerard hovering over him anxiously.  
“Careful,” Gerard mutters. “You tore your stitches when we were running. We tried to stitch you up, well Mikey, my brother did. I kind of watched and tried not to freak out. I don’t know how well we did.”  
Frank nods, pulling his shirt up so he can look at the wound. He peels the bandage off, his eyes widening in surprise.  
“Oh…” his voice trails off. Bad would be an understatement. There’s still blood welling up on the sides, but it’s less. The skin is an angry red, swollen slightly and raised. He runs his finger over the bumpy stitches slightly, wincing at the tenderness.  
“Admiring Mikey’s handiwork?” Gerard asks softly. He’s watching Frank with a concerned expression, seeing his change in mood. “It’s okay,” he reassures. “I’ll take care of it. Lie down.”

Frank is only too happy to oblige, lying back down as Gerard rummages around, looking for some more bandages. He closes his eyes as Gerard runs his fingers gently over the skin, pressing something cold against the would. Frank winces, tears pricking in his eyes as it stings the sharp smell of peroxide filling the air.  
“Fuck,” he whispers. He squirms away slightly, biting down on the inside of his cheek in pain.  
“Sorry,” Gerard apologizes. “I need to make sure it won’t get infected. It will only hurt for a bit longer, I promise.”  
Frank nods, trying to distract himself as Gerard focuses on cleaning the wound.  
“You could have embroidered it a bit,” Frank says, trying to distract himself. “You should work on your stitch work.”  
Gerard pauses, staring at him, shocked. “Yeah, I guess I could have,” he says, his eyebrows raised. He shakes his head after a second, laughing to himself. “That’s all you have to say?” he asks. “No thank you? Watching Mikey stitch you up was terrifying. I did have my eyes closed, but still. I thought you were going to wake up and start screaming at any moment.”  
Frank shrugs. “Trying to lighten the mood a—ow.” He clenches his fists, breathing out harshly as Gerard dabs some more of the peroxide on his wound, touching the stitches gently. It burns, really burns, pain spreading through his skin. He blinks back tears, staring up at the ceiling as Gerard finishes.  
“Hey, it’s done now,” Gerard says softly. Frank can only nod, struggling to control his breathing. He feels Gerard’s hand slip into his, squeezing it gently. “You’re okay.”  
“Thanks,” he manages to rasp out. 

Gerard watches him for a while, not saying anything, just sitting beside him.  
“You should get some more sleep,” he says at last.  
“Yeah,” Frank nods. He can feel his eyelids growing heavier, exhaustion weighing on his mind. He has no doubt Gerard can see it too because he hears a low chuckle as blankets are drawn gently around him. Weirdly, he isn’t bothered by the fact that Gerard is reading his mind. He’s instead almost grateful for it, glad that Gerard saved his life and cares enough about him to do this. 

Lips brush against his forehead, soft and light in a gentle kiss. “Sleep well, Frankie,” Gerard whispers as Frank drifts off. Maybe Gerard thinks he’s already asleep, because Frank feels cold fingers trailing gently down the side of his face, brushing lightly over his lips before he finally does black out.


	36. I Got The Answer

#### Frank

The next time Frank awakes, Gerard is nowhere to be seen. Frank can’t help but feel a twinge of disappointment as he doesn’t recognize the person sitting there. It’s another boy, probably around his age, sitting in the chair, reading a comic book of some sort. His light brown curly afro falls into his face every so often as he reads quite intently, having to push aside some of the hair from his face every so often. The boy only looks up when Frank pushes himself up into a seating position, wincing as he does so. 

“Hello,” Frank says cautiously.   
“Hi,” the boy says. “I’m Ray, Gerard’s friend. We haven’t met yet.”  
“I’m Frank,” Frank responds.   
“I know,” Ray grins at him. “We’ve been told by Gerard.”  
“Oh,” Frank says, his face flushing. “Uh, where is he?”  
“Mikey and I made him go take a nap on a bed instead of a chair,” Ray informs him. “He asked if he could sleep on the floor next to you and we refused. He probably won’t be up for a while.”   
Frank finds himself blushing slightly at the words. “Thanks,” he says at last. “For everything I guess.”  
“Nah, no problem,” Ray waves it off. “We never have guests. You two are the most fun we’ve had in a long time. Otherwise, it’s just exams and school around here. So, do you have superpowers?”  
“That’s rude!” another boy yells, coming in from the kitchen, drying his hands on a blue-striped dish towel. “Hi, I’m Mikey by the way.”  
“Nice to meet you,” Frank says. Mikey. So this is Gerard’s younger brother. He does bear a resemblance to his older brother, the same smile and eyes, though other than that, they seem completely different from their mannerisms. Mikey is tall and lanky, still in that caught in the awkward time between a teenager and an adult. Though there’s something familiar, about the jut of his chin and the way he examines Frank, admittedly less scrutinizingly than Gerard does.   
“You too,” Mikey responds.   
“Oh, and yes, I guess so?” Frank responds, realizing he hasn’t answered Ray’s question. “They’re not really superpowers.”  
“That’s really cool,” Ray nods.   
Frank can’t help but smile. It’s a first for him, someone who thinks his powers are cool instead of anomalies. “Thanks,” he says, ducking his head.

“Where are my manners? I’m so sorry. Do you need anything?” Ray asks suddenly, springing up.   
“I think I’m good,” Frank answers awkwardly, unsure of what to do. “Uh, could you help me stand up?”  
Ray raises an eyebrow. “Is that a good idea?” he asks, looking over at Mikey, who shrugs.   
“If Gerard was here, he’d say no,” Mikey responds. “And I highly doubt it is.”  
Frank shrugs. It probably is a terrible idea. “I’m tired of lying here,” he says. “Just for a bit?”  
Ray sighs, shaking his head. “I’m blaming you for this if anything goes wrong.”  
“I’ll take full responsibility,” Frank vows. He sits up more, wincing at the pain in his abdomen. “Ow.”  
“This is stupid,” Mikey sighs. “You all are stupid.”  
“Just help me,” Frank gets out through gritted teeth. Mikey rolls his eyes but he comes over, helping Frank stand up. 

He’s unsteady, stumbling forward, his hand pressed to the bandages, but he’s standing nonetheless. Frank takes another few steps forward before Ray and Mikey force him to lie down again. 

Frank glances around the room that he’s in, noting the messiness of it. The sight of it makes it feel like a home. His gaze travels over the blankets piled on the ground next to him and at the empty coffee mugs littering the floor, comic books scattered across the floor. Probably from Gerard, he assumes. Frank glances over at the corner, his eyes widened as he catches sight of a pile of bloody towels. 

Ray notices him looking. “You kinda bled all over everything,” Ray explains. “We tried to clean it up.”  
“Oh, I—” Frank trails off. “Sorry?” Then again, he was unconscious and didn’t really have any control over his life draining out.   
Ray laughs. “It’s fine,” he says. “No one liked this couch anyway.”  
“I liked it!” Mikey protests.   
“I got it a yard sale like two years ago,” Ray says. “It smells like cigarettes.”  
“Don’t be mean to the furniture.”

Gerard still hasn’t woken up by midday. By then, Frank has tried, and succeeded, in standing up, taking small steps around the apartment with Ray there to support him. He’s exhausted in a few minutes, but happy nonetheless. 

The shower is heavenly. And that’s saying something for someone who doesn’t even believe in heaven. But Frank can’t remember the last hot shower he took. It’s difficult with the stitches, but he manages. Layer after layer of dirt comes off, revealing the purple and yellow bruises marring his skin. He watches as the dried blood freshens, the water swirling down the drain, leaving little pink lines on the white porcelain. When he’s done, he almost feels human again. 

There are some folded clothes waiting for him, a pair of jeans and a large red sweatshirt. They’re way too big for him; he is practically drowning in the fabric. Frank has to roll up the ends of the jeans several times and it’s still not good, but good enough. 

He’s still unsteady on his feet, but he manages to move around by himself. Frank can hear Mikey and Ray talking in the kitchen, the smell of something cooking wafting from the other side of the apartment, but he turns, going the opposite way. 

Walking down the hallway, Frank raps lightly on the closed door at the end. He listens for a while, but there’s no response. Turning the knob, he pushes the door open slightly, seeing Gerard curled up in the dimly lit room. Frank smiles to himself, seeing the way Gerard is sleeping, his lips slightly parted as he snores softly. Frank shuts the door as quietly as he can, turning back to join Mikey and Ray in the kitchen.


	37. I’ve Lost My Fear Of Falling

#### Gerard

It’s the first time he actually dreams in a long time. Gerard has always been able to control his dreams, at least to some extent. Usually, he can picture his old apartment and Mikey, forcing his dream self to pick up a comic book and a cup of coffee and wait out the night. Whenever he finds himself in a nightmare, he can pull himself out, redirecting his thoughts to more peaceful ones.

Tonight though, he finds himself in a very different place. Gerard shivers as he walks, the edge of the water lapping at his feet. It’s dark, disturbingly dark water, the kind that makes him think of something lurking below the surface. 

The sky is ominous overhead, dark gray clouds obscuring the sun, a hint of rain in the air. Gerard moves, as if in a trance, across the dark sand, toward the shore, the dark water hissing and foaming as the next wave tumbles in. He’s unsure of where he’s heading; all he knows is that he needs to get somewhere.

Lightning flashes behind him, making him jump as he looks toward the shoreline. The next bolt arcs down, the flash illuminating the dark, jagged rocks, the wooden fence sticking out from the stand, and the hooded figures. 

Faceless figures stand there, dark hoods pulled over their faces. There’s the man from the Facility, the one that he killed. Faces from his childhood, from his past. His parents, staring at him with cold, soulless eyes. Worst of all, there stands Frank, no trace of recognition on his face as he stares at Gerard.

 _You did this to us,_ the figures hiss. _You did this._  
 _I didn’t do anything!_ He wants to yell, but he can’t make a noise, not as they advance slowly toward him, water sloshing around them. It seems to be getting deeper, Gerard realizes as he stumbles backward, the waves splashing against his waist now. He steps backward again, nearly slipping below the waves. 

In an instant, Frank has materialized in front of him, his eyes dark and soulless. He reaches his hand out to Gerard, his body trembling. For a moment, his eyes flash hazel again, before the color is swallowed by the black again. In silence he stands, his fingertips hovering over Gerard’s face. But when Gerard moves to touch him, he’s no longer there. 

The sunlight streaming through the window wakes Gerard first. He jumps to his feet, yawning as he checks the clock. It’s eight in the morning. He slept for an entire day. 

Trying to comb his messy hair down as best he can, he pushes open the door, hearing chatter coming from down the hall. 

When he enters the kitchen, hearing the conversation stop.   
“Morning, sleeping beauty,” Mikey calls from where he’s making himself a mug of coffee at the counter. “Glad you finally decided to wake up.”  
“Screw off,” Gerard mutters, swiping the mug of coffee from his brother. The words make him smile though. It’s been so long since he’s heard the familiarity of his brother’s teasing.   
Frank’s sitting at the counter, looking paler than usual, but lively and alert.   
“Hey,” Gerard says as he pulls up a chair beside him, the metal screeching on the linoleum floor. Mikey flinches at the sound, yelling something which Gerard ignores.   
“Your brother is kinda great,” Frank says.   
“No, he’s not,” Gerard shoots a mock glare at Mikey. “He’s annoying.”  
Frank nudges him playfully. “Can’t be more annoying than you.” Gerard just grins, rolling his eyes as he sips his coffee. 

“How’d you sleep?” Mikey asks cheerfully oblivious.   
“Like a rock,” Gerard responds, sipping Mikey's coffee. Mikey doesn’t even protest, he just grabs another mug like it’s routine. “Where’s Ray?”  
“Class,” Mikey responds. “Which we, unfortunately, have to deal with.”  
“Would honestly trade,” Frank mutters.   
Mikey winces sympathetically, a heavy silence falling over the kitchen. It is too easy to pretend, Gerard surmises. Too easy to pretend that everything is normal that he and Frank aren’t wanted terrorists and aren’t even human.   
“Then again, derivatives are pretty terrible,” Gerard says lightly.   
“How do you know? You’ve never taken calculus!” Mikey exclaims.   
“He’s just guessing at this point,” Frank cuts in. “Honestly, he barely knows algebra.”  
“That’s not true.” Gerard protests, but he’s grinning, as the weight is lifted off of everyone’s shoulders. 

Eventually, Mikey excuses himself to go do homework, though Gerard knows it’s just an excuse for Mikey to watch TV.   
“How are you feeling?” Gerard asks as soon as he and Frank are alone. There’s a note of tenderness in his voice that he can’t help but have. “I thought you were going to die. There was so much blood.”  
Frank, surprisingly, grins. “Going to die and so much blood is my middle name,” he answers. “So it’s not really a problem.”   
Gerard gives him a glare like _not funny, dude,_ but he can’t help but smile. “But actually.”  
Frank shrugs, looking away. “I don’t know what you want me to say,” he murmurs at last. “I fucking got shot. It really guests but it’s not as bad now. Besides the fact that I almost died and then you—”  
Gerard feels his face flame up. Oh shit. He had hoped Frank had forgotten, but really, how would he have? It was out of the blue and completely out of character, but Gerard had kissed Frank anyway. 

Actually, Gerard really doesn’t know how to react around Frank right now. There’s a giant secret he’s been hiding, one that desperately needs to tell. Not to mention the fact that Gerard did save Frank’s life, not one time but three. And not to mention the fact that Gerard kissed Frank, then didn’t think about it for the next half a week. There’s so much he needs to say, but he doesn’t know how Frank will react to any of it. 

But if he’s learned anything, trust is the most important thing. Because without trust, they’d both be dead somewhere in a body bag, probably buried six feet under. They need each other, whether Gerard is willing to admit it or not. He needs Frank. Maybe in more ways than one. Gerard did kiss him after all. And there’s something there, that he’s not quite willing to let go, at least not yet. 

“Frank, I have to tell you something,” Gerard starts. He wipes his sweaty palms on his jeans, trying to calm himself.  
“Yeah?” Frank looks up at him. “Spill.”  
“I’m sorry,” Gerard blurts out. “I'm really sorry, Frankie.”  
Frank frowns. “For what?” he asks, evidently confused.   
“The day before we escaped,” Gerard says. “I couldn’t stop my powers in time. I went into your mind. Frank, I’m really sorry. I should have told you sooner, I shouldn’t have—”  
“You’ve seen my memories?” Frank asks faintly.  
“I mean to tell you, but then everything happened…” Gerard trails off. “I know it’s not an excuse and I’m really sorry. I knew that you needed to know.”

Thankfully, Frank doesn’t punch him like Gerard guessed he would. He expected an outraged outburst and at least a left hook. But there’s only stunned silence. He can practically feel the gears turning on Frank’s minds, the thought whirling around. The silence almost scares Gerard more. 

“I think I need some time to process this,” Frank finally says in a slightly strangled voice.   
“Take all the time you need,” Gerard says. “Take all the time in the world.” They do have until the end of the world, though unfortunately, that doesn’t feel too far away anymore.


	38. Bright Lights That Won’t Kill Me Now

#### Frank

He doesn’t know exactly where he’s heading. Frank hears the door slam behind him as he storms down the stairwell. It’s dimly lit, the dingy and dark, the walls coated with peeling white paint. But he doesn’t stop, bolting down the crooked stairs until he shoves the doors at the bottom open, his shoulder jarring against the metal as he bursts out onto the sidewalk. 

Frank skids to a halt on the sidewalk, staring around him. The street is quiet, though he can hear the sound of traffic just around the corner. As much as he wants to sprint off and never come back, something stops him. So he turns back toward the building. 

Frank sits on the steps near the garbage cans, leaning against the wall as he watches the sky. He’s out of sight from the windows here, just barely hidden next to the chain-link fence. Frank puts his head in his hands, closing his eyes. How could someone see the deepest parts of his memories, of him and still like him? That’s the part that’s most puzzling to him. His parents didn’t, nobody did when they found out what he was. So how could Gerard see who he is, see more than anyone else, and still care? 

“Hey.” Frank looks up to see Mikey standing there, leaning awkwardly against the wall. “Mind if I sit?”  
“Go ahead,” Frank says glumly. He moves over as Mikey leans against the wall next to him. To his surprise, Mikey doesn’t say anything, just sits down, opening a book. _An Ethnocides Of Y_ , the title reads. 

Frank looks over at him with raised eyebrows. This was not at all what he expected. He expected Mikey to at least yell at him.   
“What?” Mikey asks, turning the page. “It’s nice outside. Also Gerard is kinda annoying me, freaking out and all.”  
“That makes two of us,” Frank mutters. Mikey looks over at him, but doesn’t say anything. 

A long silence passes between them and Frank starts to wonder if this is Mikey’s strategy. Bore him to death so he goes and talks to Gerard. Frank shifts, trying to get more comfortable, his legs cramping up. Mikey, in contrast, seems to be perfectly content, reading his book, turning to the next page as if the book and its strange title made sense. To Frank, it surely wouldn’t, seeing as the words would probably scramble his brain. Frank sighs, glancing at the still empty street. Should he go back? Should he forgive Gerard? It was an accident after all. 

“It gets to him, you know.”  
“What?” Frank looks over at Mikey, confused.   
“Gerard. Being able to hear what everyone is thinking and to see what’s going on inside people’s heads but not being able to help. It took him forever to get used to it. He kept slipping up, falling into people’s personal memories, like he did with yours. For so long all he wanted was to get rid of it. In some ways, I almost think he wanted to get taken, hoping that they would actually have a cure. It was bullshit, obviously, always has been, always will.”  
“Wow,” Frank says faintly.   
“And no, you don’t have to forgive him, he did overstep and make a mistake,” Mikey continues. “But that’s not what you’re thinking about, is it?”  
Frank glances over at him. “What?”  
“You’ve already forgiven him. If not, you already would have left.”  
Mikey does have a point there, Frank groans inwardly. Sure, there are other reasons, but he owes his life to Gerard, owes it several times in fact.   
Frank rubs his hand over his face. “I don’t know what to do,” he admits. He doesn’t know Mikey very well, but he still trusts him. Mikey seems to be easygoing, a calm and reasonable air around him. 

“He’s scared of you.”  
Frank doesn’t reply, just raises an eyebrow, giving Mikey a skeptical look. Gerard, scared of him? He almost laughs at the absurdity. If anything, he should be terrified of Gerard, yet he still isn’t.  
“Not if you, you,” Mikey surmises. “Of how you make him feel.”  
“Oh…” Frank is at a loss for words. He can feel his face flaming up.  
“He doesn’t like getting close to people,” Mikey continues. “It’s like he thinks if he pushes everyone away, it will be easier. The more people he cares about, the worse it will be when they leave. That’s his biggest fear, ya know. Losing the ones he cares about.”

“I think he’s in love with you,” Mikey states matter-of factly.   
Frank gapes at him, his face probably bright red. “Uh,” he says intelligently. “What?”  
Mikey only smiles. “I know him. He’s my brother, we’re like two halves.”  
“I think he hates me,” Frank sighs.   
“I doubt it. He does this sometimes. You know he ignored me for an entire week once? It’s like he thinks if he pushes people away first, they won’t have time to leave him. You’re not special—or maybe you are, I don’t know with him. I think he really likes you.”  
“That was… weirdly comforting?” Frank says. “And weird as fuck, dude.”  
Mikey just smiles, flipping to the next page.

“You know what?” Frank says, more to himself than Mikey.  
“What?”  
“I think I hate him.”  
“That’s reasonable. I mean, I grew up with him. I don’t think you can hate him more than me. But I love him too. Cause he’s my brother and he’s always been there for me. Hate and love really aren’t that different.”  
“I hate your logic. Why do you have to sound like a philosophy professor?”  
“You seem to hate a lot of things,” Mikey notes.   
“I can’t help it,” Frank mutters, sotto voce. He clears his voice, speaking louder. “What’s your point?”  
Mikey just grins. “If I say it, you’ll punch me.”  
Frank rolls his eyes, his face burning with embarrassment again. “It’s not true.”  
“Tell yourself that, dude,” Mikey responds, engrossed in his book again, as if they never had the conversation. “Good luck.”  
Frank rolls his eyes as he dusts off his jeans, heading back into the building. 

The entire way up the creaky elevator, Frank can’t help but pace around the enclosed space. He’s surprised that the elevator isn’t shaking from the way his heart is hammering in his chest. By the time the elevator dings, the doors creaking open, Frank isn’t any calmer. His hands shake as he twists the knob, stepping into the apartment. 

Gerard is sitting on the couch as he walks in, reading a book. Well, staring at it at least. Frank can obviously tell that he isn’t paying any attention from the way that Gerard shakes his head, turning the page without realizing the book is upside down. 

“You know, I hate you,” Frank says blithely.   
Gerard looks up, meeting his gaze. It’s not a look of shock on his face, only resolution. “I’m sorry, Frank.”  
“I hate you,” Frank says again as if Gerard didn’t hear him and he wanted to drive the point home with emphasis. “Or at least I want to. But I can’t.”  
“Uh…thanks?” Gerard says, puzzled.  
“What you—”  
“I’m sorry,” Gerard says again. “Frankie, I’m really, really—”  
“If you say sorry again, I think I’m going to lose it,” Frank warns. Gerard nods, lapsing into silence as Frank collects himself.   
“What I wanted to say,” Frank takes a deep breath. “Is that I hate how you keep me at arm’s length. I hate the way you make me feel. I hate it. And I know that you’re scared and I am too. But I really want to trust you and I really want you to trust me. It’s just…it’s us against the world. Us, Ray, Mikey, against everyone and I really—” he trails off. “I really want to trust you. You’ve saved my life several times. But I need to hear it from you to know that I can trust you.”  
“Of course,” Gerard says softly. “If I’ve earned it, you can trust me. And Frank, I do trust you.”


	39. We’ll Let The Fires Just Bathe Us

#### Gerard

It’s as if there is a weight that has been lifted off of his chest. Gerard watches as Frank nods, the relief surging through him making him feel weak. Frank doesn’t hate him, thank God. He has a suspicion that Mikey went to talk to Frank when Mikey said he was going to get groceries. It had irked him before but he’s relieved now. 

Gerard is surprised by the happiness that floods through him at the realization, the thought almost making him giddy with joy. Frank doesn’t hate him, no, far from it. He almost can’t suppress the grin that wants to spread across his face, can’t suppress the urge to jump and shout with glee. But he manages to keep his composure, nodding at Frank’s words. 

Neither of them seems to know what to say as they stand there, staring at each other. Gerard prays for either Ray or Mikey to return, saving them from this awkward situation. He’s pretty certain what the last question lingering on Frank’s mind is, and he’s not certain if he wants to answer it or not.

“Okay?” Gerard asks at last.   
“Okay,” Frank echoes, nodding. Still, neither of them make a move to leave though, still standing there, caught in the silence.   
“There’s one more thing,” Frank sighs, his gaze dropping to the ground as if the wooden floorboards were the most interesting thing he’d ever seen. He fiddles with the sleeve of his red sweatshirt. “We never talked about…” he trails off.   
“About what?” Gerard asks. He knows exactly what Frank is going to say, emotions coiling inside of him.   
“Do you… well, you kissed me.” Frank doesn't know what to say, his gaze fixed on the living room floor. Even from here, Gerard can see how red Frank’s face is.   
“I did.” Gerard sounds bemused, watching Frank fumbling for his words. “And?”  
“And, uhh, well Mikey told me that you—” Frank’s face is flushed red as he grimaces. “He told me and I wanted to ask if it was true. Do you—” Gerard kisses him before he has the chance to finish his sentence. 

Frank makes a noise of surprise as Gerard’s lips touch his, but he doesn’t move away, his hand curling in the soft fabric of Gerard’s sweatshirt. It’s everything Gerard has been wanting, and more, Frank’s lips, soft against his. Ever since that day in the hospital, when he was still unsure of his feelings, unsure of what might happen next. Now, he knows exactly what he wants. And he wants Frank. 

By the time Gerard pulls away, Frank is blushing deeply, his gaze dropping to the floor again. Gerard can’t help it, he pulls Frank in again, wrapping his arms around Frank and holding him tight. Frank rests his head against Gerard’s shoulder, his arms tightening around Gerard’s back.

“I hate you,” Frank says again, his voice muffled by Gerard’s sweatshirt. But there’s no emphasis behind the words. “God, I hate it.”  
“If it makes you feel better, I hate it too,” Gerard offers.   
“Shut up,” Frank mutters, pressing his hand against Gerard’s chest. “Let me have my moment.”

So Gerard smiles, pressing a light kiss to the top of Frank’s head, reveling in the little sound that Frank makes when he does so. And Gerard wants it, wants it more than perhaps anything else he’s ever wanted in life. He was scared, in many ways. But he’s not anymore. So he closes his eyes, holding Frank close, feeling content for the first time.

When Mikey comes back from the store, groceries in tow, to Gerard’s chagrin, he doesn’t look surprised to see the two of them, just flashes Gerard a knowing, self-possed smirk. Gerard glares at him, flipping him off from where he’s sitting on the couch, Frank’s head in his lap. Mikey should just quit school and become a relationship counselor at this point. After they help Mikey put the groceries away, hearing the keys jingling, announcing the arrival of Ray, they can finally resume their position on the couch. 

It’s dark at this point, the only lights streaming through the window. They’re too lazy to get up and flick on the lights, so they sit in the quiet darkness. Gerard runs his fingers through Frank’s hair absentmindedly, playing with the soft, dark strands. In the distance, they can hear Mikey and Ray talking in the other room, and beyond that, the sound of cars and traffic and the night life of the city. But it’s peaceful, quiet for once.   
“We’re so close to my old house,” Frank mutters. “It’s just across the city.”  
“Do you want to visit?” Gerard asks.   
“Do you want me to go?” There’s a hint of cautiousness in Frank’s voice, as if he’s afraid of the answer. Gerard remembers the deal that they made, a lifetime ago. The one that he doesn’t want to happen anymore.  
“Not at all,” Gerard shakes his head. “Just—they’re your parents. I know that I would give anything to see mine again.”  
“Do you miss them?”  
Gerard nods. “Of course,” he whispers. “I wish I knew what they thought of me and Mikey. Do you think they’re up there? Would they be proud of me?”  
“They’d be proud of you,” Frank reassures him. “I bet they are watching over you right now.”  
“But do you want to visit your parents?” Gerard asks. “I think it could be safe.”  
“You’ve seen how much they hated me,” Frank says, sitting up. “Do you really think that they’d want me back?”  
“I don’t know why anyone wouldn’t want you,” Gerard answers. “You’re amazing.”  
Frank flushes at his words, his face flaming. “I’m not,” he mutters.   
“You’re amazing,” Gerard repeats. He reaches over, taking Frank’s hand, running his thumb over the back of it until Frank looks up at him, his face illuminated by the glow from the streetlamps. Frank looks beautiful and Gerard can’t think of any reason why he wouldn’t think so. “You’re incredible. Don’t let anyone else tell you otherwise. And if your parents don’t think so, then they are wrong.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> hey there, thank you to everyone who has read/commented/left kudos! It's really nice to read them :)
> 
> *side note: everyone should listen to The Bifrost Incident by The Mechanisms, it's really good. 
> 
> **side, side note: I don't know if anyone caught this, but the book that Mikey is reading in the last chapter, An Ethnocides of Y, (really meta moment here) is the scrambled title of this book, An Echo of Destiny.


	40. It Was A Lie When They Smiled

#### Frank

It’s a bad idea. Of course it was. Though it seemed perfectly clever at the time, like most of his ideas. But now, as he stares at the white painted house, the one that he used to call home, he’s not so sure. 

Everything is so familiar about it, the small one story house, white paint chipped around the door. The black shutters that everyone hated, yet had no courage to change. The rose bushes that his mother so dearly loved. The mailbox hanging by a screw that Frank had biked into one too many times. And the cross hanging on the door. 

It seems to grow larger as Frank walks up the stone walkway, warning him to stay away. _Demon,_ it seemed to hiss. _Keep away._ He glances back at the car where Gerard is waiting, wincing at the slight pull in his side, the wound and the ugly reminder of what he was and what he was doomed to be. Gerard flashes him a little smile. 

_I’m here if you need me,_ he reassures. Once upon a time, Frank would have flipped out at the thought of someone else being in his mind. But it’s comforting now, the knowledge that he’s not alone. _I trust him._ He does, with every fiber of his being. Frank takes a deep breath before he raps on the door three times. 

Frank takes a step back, watching the door as if it were about to explode. He wipes his sweaty palms on his jeans, trying to take a deep breath. _It’s nothing,_ he tries to tell himself. _I’m just going to see my parents._ It’s really not nothing though. It’s the first time he’s seen his parents, after they sent him away, after they watched him being dragged away without even lifting a finger in protest. 

Frank hates to admit it, but he misses it. He should despise them, abhor them, hate them with everything in him. That’s the only thing he should feel, not longing, not pain. Right now, Frank should take a lighter and burn his old house to the ground. Who cares what happens afterward? Frank shouldn’t, he really, really shouldn’t, but he couldn’t help but long for it. 

He missed it with every fiber of his being. More than anything, he longs to be a normal kid again, going to school, hanging out with friends, just being a teenager again. Frank misses his mom’s warm hugs, the low sound of his parents talking, the way his dad would ruffle his hair after school every day. He misses the _normalcy_ , the simpler times they were, when his biggest worry was failing the next history quiz or getting shoved into a locker at school. Though he hated the days back then, wished for a different life, now he wishes he could go back to it. Back to when he knew his parents cared about him, or at least when he thought so. 

_Do they still care about me?_ He wonders internally. Frank highly doubts it, but he so desperately wants to be wrong. If only the door could open and his mom and dad could wrap him in their arms and never let go. If only it was a year ago and Frank came home, his face bruised, lip split from another altercation. When his mother would sit him down on the couch, pressing an ice pack to his forehead, her eyes soft and gentle. _Who did this?_ She would ask, even though Frank never answered. _Who hurt my boy?_ If only she cared now. 

_Where were you?_ He wants to shout. _Where were you when I got dragged away? Where were you, when I got shot? When I almost died in the hospital? Do you even care? Do you even remember me? Do you even want to?_

Would they have shown up to his funeral? Frank laughs bitterly at the thought. Would they even have cared? If they had taken him and shot him the first day instead of taking him to the Facility, would his parents have received his body? Would they even care? Frank wonders if they would cry, if his mom or dad would write a touching eulogy or not. What would his epitaph be? Surely not anything close to the truth as far as they were concerned.

What did they tell his relatives, his grandparents, his friends? He doubts it was the truth, whatever it was. Probably about some scholarship. Not that he was sent to what could have been his death and turned out to be possibly worse than that. Did everyone just try to forget about him?

Frank waits for what seems like forever, his hands in his pockets, glancing around anxiously. Gerard’s car is gone now, driven off around the block so to not cause any suspicion. Frank desperately wishes Gerard was here now, so he could go home, back to the safety of Ray and Mikey’s apartment, away from this place. The place that is no longer home, was no longer home from the moment he was dragged off. 

Frank hears the jingling of a bell and looks up to see two parents and a kid staring at him from across the street. He lifts his hand in a half wave, before remembering. The kid looks confused as he tugs on his father’s sleeve, but neither of the parents budge, their eyes fixed on Frank. _So they knew some of it,_ Frank thinks to himself bitterly as he looks away, his face flushing. _They at least knew that I was a monster._

Frank takes a step forward, ready to just fucking bolt, but before he has the chance to, the door swings open behind him, revealing a face, so familiar, yet such a stranger’s. The face of the person he will never forget, never in a thousand, not in a million years. Because it’s the person who was supposed to love him, supposed to care for him. Frank takes a deep breath, looking up to meet the eyes, those eyes, those once warm and forgiving eyes, an exact replica of his. 

“Hi Mom,” he says.


	41. Where Were You When All Of The Embers Fell?

#### Frank

It’s freezing inside the house. 

Did they always have the air conditioning up this high? Frank shivers, goosebumps prickling along his arms as he stands in the foyer, staring at the familiar living room. Everything there is exactly how he remembers it, the old couches facing each other, cloth covers worn and old. The glass table seated in the center, cracked from where Frank fell into it once. The old fireplace is still there, dusty and unused like it always was. He sees his reflection in the glass cabinet door, staring back at him, eyes wide. There are scratches and chips in the white paint of the walls, ones that Frank longs to run his fingers over. He still knows exactly where each one came from. 

It’s his living room. More like his old living room. Though he’s unsure whether or not he can call it home or not. Now, his home seems to be the apartment, the warmth and laughter there. Not for the first time, Frank wishes he had never come. If only he stayed, where there were people who loved him. Frank desperately wishes that Gerard were here with him. He’d know what to say or do. 

“Take a seat.” Frank nearly jumps out of his skin as his father appears in the doorway. Wordlessly, Frank nods, following him into the living room. Frank takes a seat on the couch, his fingers pressing into the soft skin of his arms as he tries to stop himself from shaking. His mom pours tea into several cups, handing him one. Frank takes it, his fingers trembling as he clutches the white china. It smells amazing, cinnamon and cloves, the kind that his mom always used to make around the holidays, when Frank got home from school. But he can’t bring himself to take a sip, holding the cup as if it were a bomb.

“How are you?” His father breaks the silence first.  
“Did they send you back?” The hope in his mother’s eyes is painful to see, the sting digging into Frank’s heart as his stomach drops with disappointment. “We would have come and picked you up there. They didn’t have to drive you back.”  
“We didn’t get a call,” his father says.   
“Send me back from where?” Frank asks, though he knows the answer.   
His mom frowns. “The treatment place,” she says. “For people like you.”  
“Are you fixed now?”

 _I was never broken to begin with._ Frank keeps the retort from escaping, keeping his lips tightly sealed.   
“I don’t know what you mean,” Frank says, keeping his voice as even as he can.   
“For your…” his mother motions in the air. “Your sickness.”  
“Your sin,” his father chimes in. 

In that moment, Frank is pretty certain he’s never wanted to scream more. He wants to stand up and yell at the top of his lungs. _There’s nothing wrong with him._  
“You can say the words you know,” Frank says. “My powers?”  
His mother winces at his word choice. “Yes,” she says slowly, choosing her words carefully. “The disorder that you have. Are you free from them? Are you better now?”  
“Are you free from the sin?” his mother asks. Frank’s stomach twists at the words, knowing exactly the implied meaning behind those words. 

As much as he wants to scream, Frank also wants to curl up and hide. He wants to say yes, he wants his father and mother to welcome him back with open arms. If only he could nod and smile, he could finally be home, finally be safe. But he can’t, because he’s not fixed, he was never broken to begin with. This is who he is and he cannot change it, even if he wanted to. 

“I don’t know what you hate me more for,” Frank spits. “The fact that I like boys or the fact that I have powers.”  
“Did they not fix you?” his mother asks, evidently confused.  
Frank’s grip tightens around the cup. “Don’t you see?” he shouts. “There is no fix! No fix for being bisexual, no fix for having powers. Why do I need to be fixed anyway? How can I be? I am who I am, you can’t change that, no one can.”   
“We’ve been over this,” his father says tiredly. “It’s this belief that you hold that makes you think it’s unfixable. Everything has a fix, Frank. The place we sent you to can fix you, they can—”  
“No one can fucking fix me!” Frank yells. His parents drop as Frank hurls the cup against the wall, pain shooting through his side as he does so. There’s silence except for Frank’s ragged breathing and the sound of the china tinkling as it falls to the ground. But Frank is not done yet.   
“I’m tired of people saying that. You have no clue what that place was like! Don’t you know the hell that you put me through? Don’t you know how I was tortured, how I am running for my life, how I nearly died?” Frank pulls up the side of his shirt, revealing the gunshot wound, the puckered skin, the sutures, the blood welling up around the edges. “Do you even care?” Hot tears are prickling in his eyes now as he furiously blinks them away. “Do you even care about me? _Do you even love me?_ ” 

The last words hang in the air, as Frank draws in a breath through his teeth, tears rolling down his face as he hastily brushes them away. He catches sight of himself in the reflection of the cabinet door, his eyes wide, rimmed with pink, his face raw with emotion and pain. 

“Of course we do,” his father says at last. “Frank, of course we love you—”  
“Bullshit,” Frank’s voice cracks. “It’s all bullshit anyway.”

His hands spark with purple energy, the static trembling through the air, making the hairs on his arms rise. Frank doesn’t know exactly what he’s doing, but he does it anyway, letting his powers take control. It feels good, so fucking good to see how his parents cower before him, shrinking backward into the couch. He can do anything right now, he can make them pay for what happened to him, he can— 

Arms grab his, pinning his behind his back, restraining him. For a wild moment, Frank struggles, panicking. He can almost see the guards around him, black uniforms swarming. They must have called them, his parents called the guards. They’re going to send him back—back to the Facility—he— 

“It’s me, it’s me.” Frank clings onto the sound of the voice, closing his eyes as he collapses backward against Gerard’s chest, the fight going out of him.   
“I—” he manages to get out weakly as Gerard wraps an arm protectively around his shoulders.   
“We’re leaving,” Gerard says in his ear, firmly but not harshly. His grip never relaxes around Frank as he steers him away, out the door, into the cold air. Frank closes his eyes, still breathing heavily. He doesn’t want to see the shocked faces of his parents. So he trusts Gerard to lead him out, across the yard and away.


	42. By The Purifying Flame

####  Gerard 

Gerard leans back against the driver’s seat, gripping the steering wheel and closing his eyes. He needs to take a few moments for him to finish wiping the debacle out of Frank’s parents’ minds. Beside him, Frank is silent, tears dripping from his face as he stares straight ahead, not reacting at all. He’s so still that Gerard isn’t even sure if Frank is breathing. 

It was not at all what he expected, running into Frank’s old house. He had circled around the block one more time when the wave of anguish and pain had hit him like a wave. Gerard’s grip had tightened around the wheel, spots dancing in front of him as the colors flooded his vision, dark reds and burning oranges. Frank. 

Gerard hadn’t wasted any time, throwing the car into park and running toward the house, unsure of what exactly he was expecting. Maybe the guards, maybe Frank on the floor, bleeding out again. Instead, he stumbled in on a scene he had never expected. Frank standing in the center of the living room, practically glowing in the purple light, the light from his shields that spread before him, purple energy warbling. He had shouted Frank’s name, but he was certain that Frank hadn’t heard him, from the way that his pupils were dilated, the sliver of iris that was showing glowing a strange vibrant purple. The entire time, as Frank’s parents watched, horrified out of their wits, he had grabbed Frank and held him back, even as Frank fought with terrifying strength. Gerard had never been scared of Frank before, but in that moment, he was. For a wild moment, as Frank resisted, Gerard almost feared that he would lose the fight and Frank would actually do something, something that he would regret later. Until Frank slumped backward, his eyes returning to their normal color. 

Delving into the minds of Frank’s parents is a strange experience for sure. Going into any mind is. Gerard shivers as he reaches his powers out, brushing against the minds lit with orange fear and yellow panic. As always, he reflexively closes his eyes as he sets to work. 

Each mind he touches is different, unique in their own special way. Some manifest as a library, each memory the individual book that Gerard runs his fingers down the spine of. Others are a dark hallway, each door a passageway into a moment in a person’s life. Then there are others, which are merely glowing orbs of memories, floating in the darkness. 

The minds of Frank’s parents aren’t any different. Gerard walks silently through the dark hallway, the quiet settling around him like a blanket. As he nears each memory, he can hear a faint bubble of voices, fading away as he moves. There are countless memories, countless glimpses into a life, but Gerard holds his objective in his mind, knowing where to go. 

The memory hovers in front of him glowing a soft orange, pulsing in the darkness. He reaches his hand up, the surface warbling as he places his hand gently on the surface, the scene coming into view. He sees Frank jump up, tears streaking down his face, hears the distorted yells. Gerard watches as he enters the room as well. At this point, he’s seen himself in memories so many times that it doesn’t bother him anymore, it’s just like seeing a reflection. With a brush of his hand, the memory goes gray, the color seeping out of it, the surface stilling as it starts to crumble, turning to gray ash in his palm before it floats away into the darkness. 

As Gerard finishes with the memories, he checks the minds of Frank’s parents one last time. It’s tempting, he wants to pull some strings, make them run out and over to Frank. But he knows that manipulation never lasts long—there’s always a drawback, always something that goes wrong. So he returns back to reality, blinking in the light as he reaches over, placing his hand gently on Frank’s shoulder.   
“Hey,” he says softly. “You alright?”  
Frank makes a sudden jerking motion as if he’s just woken up. He meets Gerard’s concerned gaze with a blank one of his own.   
“Frank?” he asks again, trying to keep his voice as soft as possible.  
Frank blinks a few times before he nods. “Yeah,” he whispers, his voice small. The sound of it makes Gerard’s heart break, just a little bit. Gerard reaches over, brushing a tear from Frank’s cheek with his thumb.

“Can you do something for me?” Frank asks at last.  
“Yeah, what do you need?” Gerard asks, shifting to face Frank. 

There’s a long pause, one that stretches for so long that Gerard almost wonders if Frank has forgotten what he was going to say. “My memories,” Frank mumbles. “Can you—”  
Gerard’s whole body goes cold. “Frank, no.”  
“Take them away,” he pleads, his eyes wide and shiny with tears. “Please. Like you did with them. I can’t remember anymore. I don’t want to.”  
“It’s not a good idea,” Gerard warns, moving backward. Frank grabs his wrist, holding him in place. “Frank—”  
“Please,” Frank begs. “Please. I can’t—I don’t want to—” he collapses inward again, his shoulders shaking as he cries. Before Gerard can do anything, Frank is surging forward, kneeling across the center console and kissing him. 

Gerard’s eyes widen in surprise as his fingers tangle in Frank’s hair, pushing him away slightly so Gerard can talk.   
“Frankie—”  
“Please,” Frank mumbles. “Gee—they—I—everything’s going wrong and I—” he buries his face in Gerard’s sweatshirt, his shoulders shaking.  
“Why don’t they want me?” he cries, his voice hoarse and broken, the sound of it making Gerard’s heart ache. “Why do they hate me? Am I really broken?”  
Something possessive and fierce sparks in Gerard as he leans in, pressing his lips to Frank’s forehead. He watches Frank’s eyelids flutter and pulls him in, clutching Frank’s shaking form tightly. “You’re not broken,” Gerard whispers into Frank’s hair. “You’re not, you will never be. Being who you are doesn’t make you broken, it doesn’t make you weak. It makes you strong. It doesn’t matter what they think, they don’t matter. I want you, Frank, and I think you’re beautiful.”


	43. When All The Lights Went Out, We Watched Our Lives On The Screen

#### Gerard

Mikey is pissed off when the two of them walk in, Gerard’s arm still looped over Frank’s shoulders. Mikey opens his mouth to yell but Gerard sends him a glance as he steers Frank toward the bedrooms. 

It’s dark now, the only light from the street lamps as Gerard helps Frank sit down on the bed in one of Ray’s and Mikey's spare guest rooms. He flicks on the lamp, watching the dull bulb flicker before it illuminates the room in pale yellow light. The color nearly matches the aura of emotion in Frank’s mind, the emptiness and sadness. 

As Frank pulls off his sweatshirt, Gerard crosses the room, finding a soft wool blanket folded on the dresser. He wraps it around Frank’s shoulders, feeling hopelessly at loss for what to do. 

“You okay?” Gerard asks for probably the millionth time.   
Frank nods. He’s barely spoken a word, not during the drive home, not as they walked in.   
“Do you want me to stay with you?” Gerard offers.   
Frank shakes his head, curling himself tighter under the blankets. Gerard watches him for a moment, dropping his hand lightly on Frank’s head before he turns to leave. 

“What were you two thinking?” Mikey hisses as soon as Gerard shuts the door.   
“You should have said something,” Ray says tiredly.   
“I know,” Gerard snaps. He’s on edge, wound out from the day. “God, it was so stupid.”   
“Yeah, it was,” Mikey huffs. “I nearly went to the police. Then I remembered that that would only make it worse.”  
“I’m sorry,” Gerard sighs.   
“You should be,” Mikey snaps. “I can’t go anywhere for help if you get captured. What am I supposed to do?”  
“Mikey—“  
“I already lost you once,” Mikey bursts out. “I can’t lose you again, Gee. You promised me.”  
“I don’t know what’s going to happen,” Gerard hisses back. “So excuse me for trying to do something.”  
Mikey just shakes his head, muttering something under his breath as he turns to go without another word. 

Gerard and Ray watch him go, hearing the door at the end of the hall slam.   
“Do you want to yell at me too?” Gerard asks. “Go ahead, take your turn.”   
“He’s just worried,” Ray sighs. “I was too.”  
Gerard frowns. “We can take care of ourselves, you know.”  
“I know,” Ray responds, placing his hand on Gerard's shoulder. “You’re my friend, Gee. It’s just hard, knowing that these people are after you and not being able to do anything about it.”  
Gerard lets out a quiet laugh. “It’s hard for me too,” he admits. “I have no clue what to do now.”  
“I don’t think anyone knows what to do right now,” Ray muses. “We mostly just pretend though, right?”  
“Fake it till ya make it,” Gerard grins.   
“Exactly.”  
As they exchange smiles, Gerard realizes how much he’s missed this. How much he missed Ray and their friendship and his old life.   
“Well, I should turn in,” Ray yawns.  
“Sounds like a good idea,” Gerard sighs.   
“Goodnight, Gee.”  
“Night, Ray.

Gerard stares out the window long after Ray has gone, just thinking and thinking. Long after he hears Mikey start to snore and after the lights of the neighboring apartment go out, he stands, just watching. 

He’s woken up in the middle of the night, hearing the door creak open. Gerard sits up, seeing the faint outline of someone shutting the door. 

He hears a soft sniffle and realizes it must be Frank.   
“Hey,” he whispers softly. Frank jumps at his words.   
“Sorry,” he whispers. “I didn’t mean to wake you, I just—“  
“It’s fine,” Gerard says. He shifts over so there’s room for Frank to lie down. “C’mere.”

Frank doesn’t hesitate this time, slipping under the covers. His warmth is comforting as Gerard wraps his arm around Frank, holding him closer. He can feel Frank shaking as Frank presses his face into Gerard’s shirt.

Frank kisses him without warning, pushing him backward and rolling on top of him, pressing against Gerard. Gerard tangles his hand in Frank’s hair, pulling him closer. He’s not quite certain what Frank is doing. But Frank is kissing him feverishly, his hand sliding up Gerard’s shirt. The cold air hits Gerard’s skin as he shrugs off his shirt, pulling Frank’s shirt off too, throwing them across the room. 

Gerard is surprised by how much he wants it, how much he wants Frank. Frank’s skin is warm against his, his breathing hitching as Gerard moves his hands across the taut skin of Frank’s shoulders and back. He moves against Gerard, never breaking the kiss as Frank presses himself closer, Frank’s breathing growing heavier. But instead of the soft pink glow of passion and warmth, there’s a darker scarlet of need and pain. That’s warning sign number one, an alarm flaring in Gerard’s mind. 

“Wait,” Gerard pushes Frank away gently, panting for breath. “Frank, what’s wrong?”   
“Nothing,” Frank mutters. He leans down, kissing Gerard again before Gerard manages to push him away again.  
“Talk to me,” Gerard urges.   
“I don’t want to. I just want you,” Frank whispers. “Please.” He’s trembling though, his small body shaking in Gerard’s hands.   
That is warning sign number two. Gerard sits up further, holding Frank away at arm’s length. Frank seems to take the hint, moving away.   
“Sorry,” he mutters. “I’m sorry. I shouldn’t have—”  
“Frank.” Gerard reaches out to him, holding Frank still. “What is it?”  
Frank is silent for a while. “Do you not want me?” Frank whispers at last.   
“Frankie,” Gerard shakes his head before he realizes that Frank can’t see him well in the darkness. “Of course I want you. Just…not like this.”   
He can hear Frank’s erratic breathing, feeling Frank trembling against him.   
“What’s wrong?” Gerard asks again, gently. He cups Frank’s face in his hand, running his thumb over Frank’s cheek slowly. Frank leans into his touch.   
“Nothing,” he mutters thickly. “‘M just tired.” His voice is trembling and as Gerard tilts his chin up, he can see the faint glimmer of tears on Frank’s cheek. 

Gerard nods, knowing better than to press he pulls Frank closer to him, letting Frank’s head rest in his shoulder. Frank immediately closes his eyes as Gerard wraps his arms around Frank’s waist. He hums quietly as he rubs Frank’s back, feeling the other boy’s breathing slow as he slips into sleep.


	44. Hold Your Breath When A Blackbird Flies

#### Frank

He’s alone in his dreams. Turbid images flash, the world full of smoke, mirrors, and glass. Frank is lost in the tumultuous cries echoing through the space as he spins, trying to catch sight of anything through the dark gray smoke billowing around him. He catches sight of his own face, reflected in the broken mirror, his eye blackened and his lip split before it reverts back to normal. 

Frank is standing in the living room again. His parents’ terrified faces loom before him, his mother reaching out to him. Frank looks down to see his fingers trembling, the purple energy expanding out from around them. _Stop,_ he tries to tell himself. _Stop it._ But he can’t stop, can’t control it. A ragged scream escapes from his lips as he collapses to the ground, blinding white pain building in his mind as he watches in horror as the energy crackles in the air, spreading further and further, out of control. 

Frank finds himself standing in the darkness, the roar of the ocean in the distance. As he looks out across the darkness, all he can see is the smooth black surface, ripples of water spreading out when he walks. Broken glass crunches beneath his sneakers as he walks through the smoke, through the darkness. Frank glances around, but there seems to be nothing but darkness surrounding him.

“Hello?” he calls out, his voice echoing back to his own ears. There’s only silence as Frank takes another step forward. 

_IT’S NOT SAFE. GET OUT OF HERE._

The sudden blast of wind hits him as he throws up a hand, trying to shield his face.   
“Who are you?” Frank yells. “What do you want?”  
There’s no response, just the hollow rush of wind in his ears, the sound of shrieking in the distance. Frank fights against the gusts, the dark smoke whirling around him, but he can’t escape as they spiral faster and faster, swirling around, obscuring the world around him. 

As suddenly as the winds came, they dissipate, dropping Frank to the ground. Shards of broken glass dig into his palms as he winces, scrambling to his feet. The little chunks catch light as they fall back to the ground, the scarlet gleaming on the glass. Frank turns his palms over, staring at the wounds as they close instantly, the skin restitching itself together under his gaze.

A noise makes Frank look up as he sees a gleam of red. A figure stands a few feet away, his back to Frank, his head bowed. But he’s gone in a rush of smoke, with only a last word whispered out. 

_Stay._

~&~&~&~&~

The bed is empty beside him when he awakes. Frank rolls over, checking the clock before he realizes that he’s not in the guest room that Mikey and Ray designated for him. He sits up, glancing around him in confusion before he remembers. Gerard and him. His face flushes at the memory. Shit. 

As if summoned, Gerard walks into the room, his blond hair gleaming with shower water, a towel slung over his shoulder. His hair has grown out a lot more since last time, the dark roots more obvious. 

“I’m thinking of dyeing it black again,” Gerard comments, hanging the towel over the back of a chair. He seems to catch Frank’s confused glance because he elaborates. “They all know how I look now so the disguise isn’t really useful anymore. Might as well switch it up again, shall I?”  
Frank shrugs. “If you want,” he says, his voice sounding small still.   
“We could do yours too, if you want,” Gerard suggests. Frank knows he’s just trying to distract him but the gesture warms his heart anyway.   
“Sure,” Frank smiles. “I’d love that.”

An hour later, they’re standing in the steam filled bathroom, the smell of ammonia filling the small, cramped room. Gerard’s hair is back to black, his fingers stained with dye. Frank’s hair is shorter now, after Gerard attacked it with a pair of scissors. The side of it is messily bleached, cut shorter than the rest of it. Black hair dye stains Frank’s fingers too, but he’s smiling for once.  
“Do you like it?” Gerard asks.   
“‘Course I do,” Frank grins. “Let’s go show the others.”

Frank watches as Mikey comes into the kitchen, his hair a mess. Frank sees Gerard watching Mikey from the corner of his eye. Mikey doesn’t say anything, he just hands Gerard a cup of coffee and that’s an apology in it of itself. 

Watching the silent interaction, Frank is astonished. He finds himself staring even after Mikey has gone into the living room. He’s an only child, he’s never had siblings before, but the few he knew never got along, at least not like this. 

Frank jumps as Gerard taps him on the shoulder, startling him back to reality.  
“You good?” Gerard asks.   
“Yeah, just zoned out, sorry,” Frank responds.   
Gerard nods, looking preoccupied. “Formal?” Gerard reads, picking up a flyer off the table.   
Mikey nods, leaning against the counter, a steaming cup of coffee in his hands.   
“You gonna go?”   
Mikey shrugs. “It’s in two weeks, I have no clue. I never know what my schedule is. Besides, I usually hate these things. Also, we shouldn’t leave just the two of you alone in the apartment in case they come.”  
“You should,” Gerard says. “Just a chance for you to be a normal highschooler. It’s not fair that you have to watch out for us.”  
“Yeah, well,” Mikey says, a small smile playing across his lips. “Someone needs to keep you two on track.” Frank winces at the memory.   
Gerard rolls his eyes. “I promise we won’t do anything stupid,” he sighs. “Really, Mikey. I think you should go.”  
“We’ll see,” Mikey responds.   
“I think it sounds fun,” Gerard answers. “I really wish that you didn’t have to be preoccupied with us. We’ll get out of your hair at some point.”  
“I just want you to be safe,” Mikey mutters. “If you are safe here, I really want you guys to stay.”   
“Don’t we all,” Gerard responds. “Have a fun day at school.”  
“Way to change the topic,” Mikey rolls his eyes but he picks up his bag anyway. “Bye. Don’t do anything stupid.”  
“You too,” Gerard calls after him as the door shuts. He turns to Frank, a mischievous gleam in his eyes. “So, what shall we do today?”


	45. You’re Just A Sad Song With Nothing To Say

#### Gerard

“Is it okay?” Mikey asks, fiddling with the collar of his black suit while glancing in the mirror for the umpteenth time.  
Gerard bats his hands away. “It’s fine, stop fussing,” he chides. “You look great.” He feels a pang of sorrow but he pushes it away. Mikey is so grown up now, so different from the teenager Gerard left when he was taken away.   
“Mom and Dad would have been so proud,” Gerard says. “You’ve grown up so much.”  
“You sound so sappy,” Mikey answers, wrinkling his nose. His face falls though. “I wish they could’ve seen me like they saw you. I wish they were still here.”  
Gerard ruffles Mikey’s hair, amid Mikey’s protestant shrieks. “Me too, Mikey. I miss them. I wish they were still here for us. But I bet they’re watching right now,” he assures. “They’re so proud of you.”  
“Of us.”  
Gerard sighs. “Of us,” he repeats. “Now, you ready? Go get ‘em.”  
“I’ll drop you off,” Ray calls from where he’s standing in the doorway, holding the keys in one hand. “I have class in half an hour anyway.”   
“Thanks,” Mikey calls, checking his hair one last time in the mirror, glaring at Gerard as he does so. 

The doorbell rings, making them all jump. Gerard flinches at the sudden sound, glancing at Mikey, who seems on edge.   
“I’ll get it,” Ray says, ducking out of the room. A moment later, he pops back in, a gleam in his eyes. “So, Mikey,” he says, nonchalantly. “Who’s the boy?”

Gerard gapes at his brother. “Why didn’t you tell me?” he accuses, poking Mikey in the side. “I should have known. Otherwise you never would have agreed to go to Formal. You never listen to me.”  
Mikey flushes, looking down. “His name’s Pete, he’s in my grade.”  
“Wish I could meet him,” Gerard says wistfully. “Maybe beat the crap out of him if he doesn’t treat you right.”  
“Don’t be mean,” Ray scolds him. “I’m sure he’s a great kid. Let me just go get the knives to make sure.”  
“Guys!” Mikey throws his hands in the air. “Shut it. I’m going.” He makes a move to storm out of the room before Gerard pulls him into a hug.   
“Have fun,” Gerard calls as Mikey leaves. “Knock their socks off.” He stares into the hallway, long after Mikey and Ray are gone, until he hears the car door slam and the engine start. 

“Little kids,” a voice sighs. Gerard turns around to see Frank is leaning against the doorframe, holding a steaming mug in one hand as he watches Gerard.   
“Says you, a whole of, what? Seven months older than him?” Gerard smirks as he crosses the room.   
Frank just rolls his eyes, looking away briefly.   
“How have you been holding up?” Gerard asks quietly.  
“‘M okay,” Frank responds. “I think at least.”  
“What’s wrong?” Gerard asks.   
“It’s weird, isn’t it? Watching Mikey get ready. I never went to Formal,” Frank sighs. “Got taken away before I could.”  
Gerard watches him for a moment, before a grin spreads over his face. “Ray’s at class until nine,” he muses.   
Frank looks up at him, a blush creeping over his face. “No,” he says. “No, no, no. I know that look. No.”  
Gerard just grins. “Blame yourself.”  
Frank rolls his eyes, but he deigns to let Gerard lead him into the living room. Gerard casts a few glances at him ever so often as Gerard shuts the curtains, watching as Frank fiddles with the sleeves of his sweatshirts. Gerard puts a CD in the player, unsure of what band it is. But assuming it’s either Mikey’s or Ray’s the music taste can’t be terrible. When Gerard flicks the lights off except for the few lamps, turning on the LED fairy lights in the corner, he has to admit it almost looks good. 

“Is this what it’s like?” Frank calls from the center of the room. He moves over toward Gerard, hesitatingly.   
“Probably better,” Gerard says, turning toward him. “We can actually have good music. And it’s not as crowded.”  
Frank rolls his eyes for what seems like the millionth time. “The actual thing sounds terrible.”  
“It kinda is,” Gerard muses. “So, do you want to dance?”

Frank glances over at him, a blush coloring his cheeks. “Uh, what?”  
“That’s kinda the whole point,” Gerard says. “C’mon.”  
Frank doesn’t go willingly, but he doesn’t resist either, letting Gerard drag him to the center of the living room, standing in front of him.   
“I don’t bite,” Gerard says, amused.   
When Frank doesn’t make a move to, he lifts Frank’s hands, placing them on his shoulders while he rests his hands around Frank’s waist.   
“I’m terrible at dancing,” Frank mutters.   
“Me too,” Gerard admits. “But it’s not that difficult apparently. We kinda just sway back and forth.”

So they do. Standing there, Frank’s arms looped around his shoulders, his encircling Frank’s waist. Until the CD loops again and again, the same song playing over and over, but Gerard can’t summon the will to move and change it. He just wants to stay there forever, bathed in the warm glow from the lamps, the sound of electric guitars and drums in the background. Frank’s eyes are closed from where he’s leaning against Gerard’s chest, their fingers entwined, Frank’s mind a soft glow of warm red and blue, illuminating the room. And Gerard is happy, truly happy for the first time in a long, long time. 

“I miss it,” Frank admits.   
“School?”  
“Being normal. Not having to worry about survival or being caught.”  
“Me too,” Gerard sighs.   
“It’s weird, isn’t it? I hated it when I was there. I got bullied all the time. They all hated me. I think I got pushed into every single locker, except for like the two that didn’t open. I hated my life. I always wanted to leave, to run away and live on my own.”  
“Same,” Gerard says. “Everyone hated me too. But what good is it to dwell now? We’re different from them, and that makes us special. Not like the normals, they have it all the same. It must be boring.”  
“I wish it were boring sometimes,” Frank sighs. “I wish this never happened. I would give anything just to be normal again, to go to school, to be a teenager again.”  
“Well, if this had never happened,” Gerard murmurs. “I never would have met you.”

He takes Frank’s hand, spinning him until Frank is laughing, falling into Gerard’s arms. The lights cast a warm glow over his face as Frank looks up at Gerard, his face flushed. Frank is so close to him right now, his breath warm against Gerard’s face. Gerard leans closer, pressing his forehead against Frank’s, feeling Frank’s eyelashes brushing against his face as Frank’s eyes flicker shut. In a swift motion, he cups Frank’s face in his hands, his lips pressing against Frank’s, a soft sigh emitting from Frank as Gerard does so. Gerard kisses him, Frank arching into his touch as Gerard pulls him close in the darkness of the apartment.

But the stillness in the apartment is shattered abruptly as the telephone rings.


	46. I Hope You’re Ready For A Firefight

#### Gerard

Ray has been attacked.

He can barely understand Mikey through the static crackling in the telephone. Gerard freezes, his thoughts tumbling through his mind. _No. No. No._ Not Ray. It can’t be Ray. He’ll do anything, it can’t be, it can’t be. Gerard desperately hopes he’s dreaming, hopes he’ll wake up. Bile rises in his throat, nausea building inside of him. Not Ray, not Ray, not Ray. He repeats the words like a mantra inside his head. Not Ray. Not Ray. If Ray dies—no, he can’t. There’s no way in hell that Gerard will let that happen. He doesn’t know what he will do if he loses Ray. Ray has been his best friend for as long as he could remember. He’s always been there for Gerard and Mikey, when they needed him the most. Ray has known them for so long, known all their secrets. He was there when Gerard and Mikey’s parents died, there when Gerard and Mikey lied about their Aunt Elena who they were supposed to live with, since there was never an Aunt Elena, but Gerard and Mikey didn’t want to be sent away. Ray has always been there for them, since the very beginning.

Frank has to take the phone from him. Gerard can’t hear what he’s saying to Mikey, not through the blood pounding through his ears. Not Ray. Not Ray. He presses his head into his hands, trying to calm his pounding headache. It can’t be.

Frank’s hand touches his shoulder, making him jump. He’s off the phone with Mikey, watching Gerard cautiously.  
“What happened? Is he alright? What’s going on? Is Mikey okay? What’s—” Gerard suddenly unfreezing, the words tumbling out of his mouth like water from a dam. “Frank, is Ray alright? What happened to him?”  
“He’s fine. Ray is gonna be okay,” Frank soothes. “Gee, take a deep breath. We’re gonna go get him, okay? He’s a bit beat up, but he’s okay.”  
“Did Mikey say what happened?”  
Frank shakes his head. “I don’t think he knows.”

Gerard practically takes off down the stairs, hearing Frank chasing after him. He fumbles with the keys, somehow managing to get the car started and speeding out of the driveway. Gerard watches the red needle on the speedometer shooting up, past forty, past sixty, past seventy. 

He grips the steering wheel tightly, his knuckles turning white, his foot pressed down on the gas even though Frank warns him to slow down. But he can’t, he can’t, he can’t. His heart is pounding so hard in his chest, his breath coming in gasps as he trembles. The only thing he can focus on is getting to the school and finding Ray. The car rattles as it speeds down the roads, despite Frank’s warnings. He needs to get there, he needs to make sure Ray is okay, he needs, he needs to, he needs— 

Gerard doesn’t even wait for the car to stop before he’s jumping, out running across the parking lot. Frank follows a few steps behind, holding the keys that Gerard forgot to take out of the ignition. 

The school is illuminated with flashing alternating red and blues. The parking lot is mostly empty, a few straggling students leaving with their parents. Gerard ducks under the caution tape, running over to Ray, wrapping his friend in his arms. Ray lets out a muffled grunt as Gerard squeezes him, not letting go.  
“Are you okay?” Gerard bursts out. “Are you okay? What happened? Who did this? What’s going on?”  
“One question at a time,” Mikey calls from the side. “Gerard, let him breathe.”  
Gerard reluctantly lets go, taking a step back to examine Ray. There’s a swollen knot on his cheek, turning purple and blue. His left eye is blackened, the skin an ugly shade of red and purple and his lip is split. But he’s alive, he’s okay.  
“I’m okay,” Ray sighs as Gerard hugs him again, squeezing him tight. “Gerard, I’m fine.”  
“Who did this?” Gerard asks frantically. “Who did this?” He clenches his fists tightly, his fingernails digging into his palms as he struggles to breathe. Burning anger is flaring through him, hot and fast. All he wants to do is find whoever did this, find them and make them pay. No one can hurt his friend and get away with it.  
Ray shrugs. “I didn’t get a good look at them. I came back to pick up Mikey and got ambushed in the parking lot. They just jumped me and disappeared.”  
“You’re not thinking that it is—” Frank mutters. “It can’t be.”  
Gerard shakes his head. “Maybe. I don’t know,” he groans, frustrated. “I don’t know anything. Who could have known?”  
“My parents,” Frank says after a while. “They must have alerted them.”  
Gerard shakes his head. “I wiped their memories though. That’s impossible.”  
“Could someone else have seen us? Called the guards?”  
“How would they have found Ray though?” Gerard asks frantically, running his hand through his hair. “No one could have known that he was connected to us. Maybe that he knew Mikey, but that still makes no sense.”

“I’m going to get Ray home,” Mikey says. “Are you gonna come with us?”  
Frank shakes his head. “We’ll search for whoever it is, I guess.” He casts a glance at Gerard who doesn’t seem to notice.  
As Ray and Frank help get Mikey in the car, Gerard paces across the parking lot, his hands running through his hair. Gerard doesn’t care who sees him, it doesn’t matter anymore. They’ve been found, at least by someone if Gerard’s suspicions are right. But there’s no one around, no one but him and Frank in the parking lot as Mikey drives away. 

“Gerard.”

It’s just his name, whispered in the breeze, the voice so familiar, so, so familiar. Gerard freezes, every nerve in his body going icy cold. For a moment, he thinks he’s falling, before he realizes that he’s actually moving, sprinting forward as if the entire world is at his heels. He hears Frank shout his name, but he can’t stop himself as he skids to a halt, pitching forward as he stops and stares.

Because never in a million years, could he have guessed that this would have happened. Gerard almost laughs at the absurdity. For so long, he wished for this to be true. He even uttered the words to Mikey, a mere four hours ago. But now, he desperately wants to take the words back, because no matter how much he wanted this, he didn’t want it like this. Gerard has to pinch himself to make sure he’s not dreaming, to make sure he won’t wake up, tangled in blankets and screaming. But it’s true, it really is true. 

A gun is aimed straight at his forehead, and the person holding it is his mother.


	47. Mama, We All Go To Hell

#### Gerard

All the air rushes out of Gerard’s lungs as he gasps in shock. There’s no doubt about it, it’s as clear as day. It’s his mother, through and through. But that’s not possible, it can’t be possible. But his mother isn’t dead. 

Gerard’s eyes meet his mothers, staring into them like he longed to for so long.   
“How?” he gasps out, the word hanging in the cold air. “Why?”

There’s no response. His mother’s mouth simply pressed into a hard, firm line as she fires. 

Gerard closes his eyes expecting a flash of pain. But there’s nothing. 

He risks opening his eyes to see a purple shield in front of him. The bullet pings to the ground at his feet, harmlessly rolling toward the wall. Frank is standing behind him, his eyes wide, hands outstretched. He yells something at Gerard but Gerard can’t hear him over the blood pounding through his ears. 

His mother advances, firing one, two, three more times. Gerard flinches at each gunshot, watching in a mixture of shock and awe as the bullets ping against the purple shied that has expanded before him.   
“Gerard, go!” Frank yells. Gerard hesitates, before backing up, so he’s even with Frank. 

Frank’s face is strained, his teeth gritted as he holds his hands out in front of him, the shield wobbling as another bullet hits it, pinging to the pavement below.   
“Go,” he manages to get out. Blood is trickling from his nose and ears as he stumbles backward. Gerard reaches out to catch him, placing a hand on the small of Frank’s back to steady him. “I’m fine. Go!”  
“Not without you,” Gerard answers. He hesitates before he sweeps his powers together, imagining them into an arrow. Then, he fires. 

His mother stumbles backward, her eyes going wide. She doesn't collapse, but she pauses, giving Gerard the chance to grab Frank and run. 

They make it around the side of the building, pressing their backs against it as they hear the crackle of a radio. Gerard can’t tell what’s being said, but he can hear the distinct voice of his mother, responded to by two others. 

“You okay?” he gasps.  
“I’ll be fine,” Frank pants. He wipes the blood from his face, wincing as he does so.   
Gerard glances back around the side of the building, seeing a shadow loom on the sidewalk.   
“Shit,” Frank mutters. “More?”  
Gerard nods, glancing around. “C’mon.” He grabs Frank’s arm again, pulling him toward the door.   
His hand closes around the metal handle just as he hears a voice yell. “There!”

In one move, Gerard has shoved himself and Frank inside, slamming the door shut. He grabs a chair, shoving it under the handle, praying that will slow them down. 

They duck into the hallway, sprinting down through the dark corridor. The exit signs glow red above their heads, casting Gerard in a strange glow.   
“Here!” He pulls Frank along as they duck into a classroom, crawling under the desks as the beam of a flashlight sweeps through the window. He hears voices and meets Frank’s eyes, praying that whoever is after them won’t notice them here. 

As soon as the voices fade away, they slip into the hallway again, sprinting down the hallways, past the lockers lining the walls. Gerard hears voices at the end of the hallway, skidding to a stop, Frank crashing into him with a muffled grunt. Gerard glances around wildly, seeing the shadows looming on the hallway behind them, growing closer and closer. They’re cornered. 

“Shit,” Gerard breaths out. He’s unsure if he can take all the minds at once, especially with him and Frank exchanged from their previous skirmish with Gerard’s mother. His fingers scrabble along the metal as they settle on the locks, fumbling as he tries to unlock them. Frank takes it from him, his fingers working, purple sparking in his hands as the locks clatters to the ground. Gerard winces at the sound as he unlatches the locker, shoving Frank inside before climbing into the next one himself. 

Peering through the small vent, he can see the beam of a flashlight sweep across the ground, the beam catching on a broken combination lock. Shit. Gerard presses himself backward as the beam of the flashlight is aimed up at his eyes. He curses silently, closing his eyes. The face of a man looms in front of his vision, so close to him that Gerard can see the blue of the man’s irises, before the man turns away, motioning the guards with him. 

Gerard lets out a breath, collapsing against the inner wall of the locker, his body going weak from the adrenaline. He can hear Frank breathing heavily in the locker over. Gerard reaches over and presses his hand against the cool metal.

 _You okay?_ He asks.   
_Peachy_ , Frank responds in his mind, sounding slightly panicked. _I love small spaces. Really, really love them. Brings back great memories._  
Gerard winces as he fumbles for the lock, his fingers catching on the cold metal. The locker door swings open as he crashes to the ground, his body shaking from adrenaline. Somehow, Gerard manages to climb to his feet, fumbling for the lock on Frank’s locker before it springs open, crashing against the wall.

Frank practically crashes into him as the two of them fall to the ground, knocking the wind out of Gerard.   
“Hey,” Gerard manages to gasp as he untangles himself from Frank, sitting up. He hears a distant shout, realizing that they need to move. Gerard pulls himself shakily to his feet as they stumble down the hallway. Gerard’s hands shake as he pulls open a closet, shutting the two of them in. 

It’s a tight fit, but not as terrible as the lockers. At least there’s room for them to move around a bit here. Gerard holds his breath as he hears the clanging of metal on metal. They’re checking the lockers, he realizes.   
“You okay like this?” Gerard mumbles into Frank’s hair.   
“It’s better,” Frank whispers. He squirms around a bit, his knee digging into Gerard’s leg. Gerard wraps his arms around Frank, trying to keep him still.   
“How much longer should we wait?” Frank’s breath is warm against his cheek. Gerard shivers at the touch.  
“Give them a bit longer,” Gerard answers.   
“Won’t Mikey be freaking out?”  
“Probably,” Gerard says back. “But what are we gonna do about it?”  
Frank makes a small noise of amusement in response, his head falling against Gerard’s shoulders.   
“Wake me up when we leave then,” he mumbles. “I’m gonna sleep.”  
Gerard nods, resting his chin on the top of Frank’s head and closing his eyes as well. They might as well try to get some rest; it’s going to be a long wait.


	48. Too Young To Die

#### Gerard

He doesn’t get much rest, through the turbid images flashing through his mind. His mother, standing in front of him. Her body, the day that he found her, the day that he first killed. The man from the Facility is there too, the one that he murdered. Gerard struggles to move, struggles to say something, but he can’t, he’s pinned down. In the distance, he hears gunshots, the sound cutting through his mind as he flinches at each one. Before him, he sees his mother, the gun aimed at him. There’s no trace of recognition in her eyes, just hard cruelty as she fires, intending to kill. 

_Gerard. Gerard! GERARD!_ Gerard jolts up from where he slipped into a light sleep. He blinks, looking around in the darkness, disoriented. He’s still in the closet, Frank sleeping against his chest. He squints in the darkness, seeing the faint outline of shelves and books. There’s no place where the voice could have come from. 

_Gerard!_ The voice is more impatient this time. _Earth to Gerard. Can you even hear me? Helloooo? Test one, two. Ray said this should work. Is it? I look absolutely crazy, so if you are listening by any chance, could you save me from this embarrassment?_

 _Mikey?_ Gerard asks in his head.  
 _Finally! Where are you?_ Mikey sounds exasperated.   
_Trapped inside the school. Are the guards still there?_  
 _I’m circling on the outskirts of the school. They have the whole thing blocked off. If you can get out the back entrance, I’m right on Route 3._  
 _Copy that,_ Gerard responds. 

For a moment, Gerard is entranced, watching Frank sleep against his chest, Frank’s dark hair falling into his face, his pink lips parted slightly as he breathes. He can’t help but smile, his fingers curling loosely over the small of Frank’s back. Strangely, he could stand here forever, just watching Frank. 

Snapping himself from whatever trance he is caught in, Gerard reaches over, shaking Frank awake gently, watching as Frank blinks at him blearily. Frank still looks exhausted, dark blood crusted around his nostrils and ears. He winces as Gerard shakes him, as if his head hurts.   
“Hey,” he whispers. “Mikey is gonna get us out.”  
“Thank God,” Frank mutters. “This isn’t very comfortable, ya know.”  
Gerard rolls his eyes at the response. “I’ll get us a 5-star hotel next time then, shall I?”

It takes a few more minutes for Gerard to be certain that he’s fully awake. Another few as Gerard presses his ear to the door, closing his eyes. He sends out his powers, searching for any hint of minds, but he can find no trace. When he’s fully satisfied, he fumbles for the knob, pushing on the door. The door creaks open as Gerard tiptoes out. The school seems to be empty now. It’s a strange sight, he muses, as they jog through the now deserted hallways. The lockers are hanging open, books and jackets piled on the floor. He peeks into several classrooms as he passes, seeing the overturned desks and chairs. They, whoever they were, really were searching for them. A shiver runs down his spine as he turns away. He and Frank were so close to being found out, they were narrowly missed. 

Frank’s hand tightens on his as Frank yanks him behind a door. Gerard watches as a figure steps out, glancing around before shaking his head. It’s a guard, seemingly around their age, dressed in sharp black, a gun hanging by his side.   
Frank taps his shoulder, his eyes wide. “Should we make a run for it?” he mouths.   
Gerard hesitates, judging it. There only seems to be one guard. “On my mark,” he whispers. He closes his eyes, reaching out with his powers as he brushes against the guard’s mind gently. It only takes a soft push before the guard stumbles backward, leans against the wall and slowly sinking down, his chin pressed against his chest as he is pushed into sleep. Gerard blinks a few times, trying to clear the yellow spots forming in his vision. He reaches out, grabbing Frank’s shoulder as he steadies himself, taking a deep breath. 

“Now!”   
They sprint out the door, hearing yells of surprise and the fumbling of weapons. But Gerard doesn’t waste any time looking back. He sprints across the pavement, down the hillside, sneakers sliding in the wet grass, hearing hollers and yells behind him. But he keeps running, Frank hard on his heels as they crash through the bushes, branches lashing against their faces, mud squelching beneath their shoes. 

Gerard’s sneakers skid on the pavement as he doubles over, panting hard. Risking a glance back, he sees the guards gaining on them. Shit. He stands up, ready to run again. If Mikey doesn’t come in time, then they are going to— 

There’s a squeal of tires as Gerard jumps back, pushing Frank with him. As promised, a familiar looking car skids to a stop before them. “Get in!” Mikey yells, throwing open the door. Gerard dives into the backseat, Frank right behind him as he slams the door shut.   
“Go, go!” Gerard screams as Mikey hits the gas, the car shooting out of the parking lot, Gerard’s shoulder crashing into the window. Gerard watches the figures chasing after them, but the car is speeding away, leaving them in the dust. He sees one take out a radio, but it’s too late; they are in the clear.   
“Oh my god,” Frank gasps from where he’s sprawled over Gerard in the backseat, his elbow digging into Gerard’s shoulder, Gerard’s knee digging into his leg. Gerard keeps one arm firmly wrapped around Frank’s chest, holding onto him for dear life as Mikey takes another corner sharply, the tires squealing on the wet pavement. “That was terrible.”  
“Tell me about it,” Gerard laughs as he sits up, still unable to let go of Frank. He feels like throwing up, the realization of it coming to him as his adrenaline wears off.   
“Holy shit!” Mikey exclaims, staring at them in the rearview mirror. “We can’t leave you two alone anywhere!”


	49. Don’t Believe What They Say

#### Frank

It’s still dark out when he wakes up in Gerard’s lap, his head cradled in the crook of Gerard’s arm. For a moment, Frank just lies there, staring at the ceiling as he orients himself. The last thing he remembers was lying on top of Gerard in the backseat, Gerard’s arms wrapped tightly around him as Mikey sped away from the attackers. Now, it seems as if he’s back in the apartment. There’s a lamp on, the dim light illuminating the room. He and Gerard are on the couch, Mikey sitting opposite in an armchair. Gerard’s fingers are running through his hair, his other hand pressing a rough piece of fabric to Frank’s forehead.

“Our mother?” Mikey repeats again. “Are you certain?”  
“It’s not possible,” Gerard mutters. “I saw her die. I saw both of them die. But it was. It had to be. I’m certain of it.” He doesn't sound so certain though. Frank can tell that he’s gnawing at the inside of his cheek.  
“Is Dad dead too?” Mikey asks, his voice sounding small. “Mom’s alive, so Dad….”  
“I don’t know,” Gerard mutters. “I don’t know. I don’t know anything. It’s just so—” he sighs. “It’s so frustrating.”  
Mikey makes a noise of agreement. He’s pressing an ice pack to his eye. The swelling on his bruises seem worse, the purple and black more obvious, especially in the dim light.   
“You should get some rest,” Ray says softly from the doorway. “Both of you.”  
Gerard nods. “Mikey, you should go,” he says in hushed tones. “I don’t want to disturb Frank.”  
“Are you going to be okay?”  
“I’ll have to be,” Frank hears Gerard mutter as Frank fades back into unconsciousness. 

He doesn’t know how much time has passed when he next wakes up. Not too long, it seems, as Gerard is still awake. There’s the sound of a pencil scratching against the paper as Gerard hums quietly to himself, sketching in the light of the lamp. Frank watches him for a few moments, smiling to himself. 

Frank sits up, or tries to as the world spins around him. He winces as hot, sharp pain shoots through his temples.   
“Easy,” Gerard says, instantly alert. “You exhausted yourself.”   
“Glad to know,” Frank answers, his voice hoarse.  
With some difficulty, Frank pushes himself upright. His fingers fly up to his face, finding the side of it caked in dried blood.   
“Are you okay? I was so worried,” Gerard says.   
“I think so,” Frank responds. “I feel better now.”  
“That’s good,” Gerard mutters. He makes a few more lines on the paper.   
“What are you doing?” Frank leans over his shoulder, glancing at the sketch.   
“Drawing you.” A small smile flickers onto Gerard’s face. “You’re quite pretty, ya know. ‘Specially when you’re asleep. Did that sound creepy? A bit, I guess. It’s true though.”  
Frank flushes at his words, embarrassment creeping through him. “Mikey and Ray asleep?” he asks, hastily changing the subject.   
Gerard nods. “They left a while ago.”   
Frank focuses more closely on Gerard, at the dark bags under his eyes and the way his lips are pressed together, lines of tension drawn through his body. “What about you? Are you okay?”  
Gerard shrugs, looking away. “Good question,” he sighs.   
“Talk to me.” Frank props himself up so he can talk to Gerard better.   
“Everything is turning upside down,” Gerard whispers. “Everything I thought was true is wrong.” He looks up at Frank, his eyes terrifyingly blank. “What’s going on? Frank, what’s happening?”  
Frank swallows, his throat constricting. “I don’t know,” he says at last. “But Gee, it’s going to be alright.”  
“It’s just that—”

Frank thinks back to the conversation he overheard between Mikey and Gerard. Then to the woman in the parking lot, and Gerard’s reaction to her, the way that he froze. Questions spark in his mind, but he wants to know the truth first.   
“Was the woman—”  
Gerard nods, not saying anything else.   
“Are you—”  
“I don’t know!” Gerard bursts out. “Frank, I don’t know what’s happening. It’s not possible, I saw her dead. She’s dead, and has been for three years. And now, she turns up in a parking lot, after Ray has been attacked and she tried—Frankie, she tried to kill me.”  
“Gerard,” Frank begins, but Gerard is not finished yet.   
“What did I do?” he rants, pushing a hand through his hair. “Why did she leave? Assuming I’m not crazy and it really was her, what did we do to her? Why would she ever leave us in the first place? Why Ray? Is that how they knew to attack him? But why Ray? Because he’s our friend? They must know where we are then, at least the general location. Why me? Why would she try to kill me? _My own mother?_ ” Gerard’s voice cracks with desperation as he says the last words. 

And Frank wants to wrap his arms around Gerard and never let go. To comfort him, take all the pain away from him. He wants so desperately to stop Gerard’s agony, but he can’t do anything except pull Gerard close. “It’s okay,” he whispers into Gerard’s hair. “It’s okay, it’s going to be okay.” How desperately he wants those words to be the truth.  
“We’re not safe anymore, are we?” Gerard asks, his voice slightly muffled. “We won’t ever be safe again. Not unless—I need answers. I need to know why. I need to know how to stop it.”  
Frank shakes his head. “Don’t say that,” he says, his voice coming out harsher than he intended. “Don’t lose hope. It’s the only thing that we have.”  
“Easier said than done,” Gerard sighs.   
“Well, it’s the only thing we can do,” Frank retorts, his skin pricking.   
“Can we not talk about this now?” Gerard snaps. He sighs, rubbing his hand over his face. “Sorry. I’m just drawn out.”  
“You should get some sleep,” Frank suggests.  
“Probably should,” Gerard admits ruefully. “Come with me?” He holds out his hand to Frank, an apology etched into his face.

Frank looks up, suddenly feeling shy and exposed, but he nods, accepting the apology and Gerard’s outstretched hand.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> i'm on winter break yayyyyyy


	50. The Hardest Part Of This Is Leaving You

#### Gerard

It’s dark as he leads Frank to his bedroom. The only light is coming from the moon, filtering in through the paper thin blinds. He can hear Ray and Mikey snoring from the other rooms and the sound of cars driving by on the highway in the distance. But other than that, it’s quiet, peaceful even despite his guilt and fear. 

They have slept here, tangled in these sheets together so many times before. They have lain here together, in each other’s arms countless times, but never like this. Yet this feels different somehow, new. 

Gerard almost feels nervous, butterflies fluttering in his stomach as he reaches over, taking Frank’s face in his hand. Frank leans against his touch, his hazel eyes dark in the dim light as Gerard’s fingers brush lightly over his face, trailing over his nose, his lips, marveling at Frank’s features illuminated by the silvery light of the moon. 

“We almost died tonight,” Frank whispers, almost wonderingly.   
“It’s thanks to you that we are still alive,” Gerard responds, running his thumb across Frank’s cheekbone and watching Frank’s eyes flicker shut before they open again.   
Frank blushes at his words. “Thanks to you. You did most of the work.”  
“No,” Gerard whispers, brushing a dark strand of hair from Frank’s face. “You saved my life tonight. You know that? You saved me.”  
“You’ve saved mine before,” Frank mutters, his eyelids fluttering closed as Gerard leans forward, pressing a kiss to his forehead.   
“What would I do without you?” Gerard murmurs. “I think I would lose my mind.”   
“I think you would,” Frank responds cheekily. “You would get lost in a paper bag without me.”  
“Yeah right,” Gerard answers sarcastically. “But really, Frankie. Without you, I don’t think I would be here.”  
Frank looks up at him through his lashes, his beautiful hazel eyes meeting Gerard, pale slivers of light falling across his face. “Really?” he whispers, his voice hushed as if he doesn’t quite believe it.   
“Of course,” Gerard murmurs. “You keep me going, you know? If I lost you, I’d fall apart. I can’t lose you. I just need you to be safe,” he says, a hint of desperation entering his voice, the memories crowding at the edges of his mind. “Nothing is certain right now. Everything’s falling apart, Frankie. Everything is upside down and nothing makes sense anymore.”   
“I know,” Frank breathes. “Gerard—”  
“I can’t lose you. If I lost you I’d go insane,” Gerard confesses. “You’re too important to me.”  
“You’re important to me too,” Frank says. “Gerard, all I need is for you to be safe. I…” he trails off, staring at Gerard. 

“I love you,” Gerard blurts out. He’s never said this before to Frank but suddenly he’s possessed with the urge to say the words over and over again. It’s always been implied, never said out loud. But it just feels right now. “I really love you.”   
“Really?” Frank asks, his voice sounding slightly unsure. In that moment, Gerard makes the split decision to make sure that Frank never feels this doubt again, never doubts whether he’s worthy or not of being loved. Because he is, through and through. 

In one motion, his fingers brush under Frank’s chin, tilting Frank’s face up, letting their lips touch. Frank’s lips are soft against his, the kiss is sweet, so impossibly sweet that Gerard aches for more and more. He’s never needed Frank like that before, never needed him like this. Right now, he needs to know that he’s not alone, needs to know that Frank is here, with him.   
“But I’m here,” Frank whispers against his lips. “Gee, I’m always going to be here. I’m always here for you.”

Gerard can only let out a sigh, kissing him and pressing him backward until he has Frank pressed against the bed. Because Frank is here. Frank is real. He is solid, warm, under Gerard’s hands as they roam over Frank’s jaw, over his back. He can feel Frank’s heart racing and hear the little gasps he’s making as Gerard kisses down his jawline to the pale skin on his throat. It’s enough to keep him grounded and send him floating a thousand miles above the earth at once. It’s all he needs. 

His hands slide up over Frank’s back, brushing against the warm skin, pulling Frank’s shirt off as well as his own. His fingers trail over the raised scar, the half-healed bullet wound. Frank winces slightly as he does so, so Gerard presses a soft, gentle kiss to the tender skin instead.   
“You’re perfect,” he murmurs against the warm skin. “You’re absolutely perfect.” 

They are both panting now, breathing heavily. Gerard traces his fingers along Frank’s warm skin, hearing Frank’s gasp as he gets lower and lower. He tugs at Frank’s jeans, pulling them lower as he leaves soft kisses in their place.

Frank is practically glowing in the moonlight, lying stretched out before him, eyes half closed. Gerard has never seen anything more beautiful, anything more lovely. On impulse, he reaches over, caressing the side of Frank’s face.   
“I love you,” Gerard tells him, three words he wants to repeat to Frank over and over and over again. If there is ever a day that he doesn’t mean them to Frank, he hopes that someone will put him out of misery right then. “I love you.” He leans down, kissing Frank with each word. “I love you.”  
“I love you too,” Frank gasps out between Gerard’s kisses, his breathing growing heavier. “God, Gerard, I love you so much.”  
“Let me show you,” Gerard murmurs. “Just how much I love you. If you let me, I will. I’ll show you just how much I love you.”  
“Just kiss me,” Frank begs, wrapping his legs around Gerard’s waist and pulling Gerard down as Gerard laughs. So Gerard does. 

Through half formed words and gasps, he shows Frank. He tells Frank with everything in him, panting Frank’s name out between thrusts. With his hands tangled in Frank’s hair, Frank’s hands roaming over his back. With Frank beneath him, pressed into the sheets, gasping Gerard’s name. Frank, who is beautiful, absolutely beautiful in every possible way. Frank, who is all that Gerard knows he will ever need. And it’s just the two of them as the sky lightens and the city wakes and until there's nothing left but stars.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I love snow but dang shoveling a driveway is not fun


	51. Can You Hear Me Cry Out To You?

# Part 3: The Kommos Of Dreams

###  ~~Location: The Apartment on Battery Street~~ In your moms house  
~~Time: 7:01~~ go fuck yourselves  
~~Subject: M-07, M-74, unidentified others~~ You’ll never catch us  
~~Notes: Immediate capture needed. All teams on the lookout.~~ Love, Gerard, Frank, Ray and Mikey

#### Frank

In his dream, he’s driving. For a moment, Frank wonders if he’s in a memory instead, but it’s a different car and he is alone. The car is speeding down the side of the highway, trees looming on either side. Images flashes before him, a bright orange door, a headstone. He thinks he sees Gerard standing right there, but he’s gone before Frank can tell. 

Then he’s walking down a long, narrow passageway, the only lights coming from the walls. The only sound is from his footsteps and the soft metal clanging. Frank glances around, only seeing his pale face reflected back in the surface of the metal walls. He doesn’t recognize where he is, he’s pretty certain he’s never been to wherever it is before. 

The lights flicker on around him and he spins around. There’s a figure standing in the hall behind Frank. With a start, he realizes it’s Gerard. A gun is held in his black gloved hands. Gerard’s eyes are closed and his head is bowed, the gun aimed toward the floor. He seems so still, as if he had turned to stone. But as soon as Frank takes a tiny step forward, his head shoots up, his gaze locking on Frank’s. Menacingly, Gerard moves forward, slowly, the gun moving so it’s aimed straight at Frank. 

Frank shoots up in bed, his heart hammering in his chest. He grips the blankets for a few moments, trying to calm his racing heart. His hands are clammy, his forehead slick with sweat as he takes a few deep breaths, glancing around the now-light room. 

Gerard is gone. For a moment, Frank wonders if he’s dreamed everything that happened. But the blankets beside him are rumpled. Frank sits up, letting out a sigh as he begins to get dressed. It’s morning now, bright light streaming in through the windows. There’s no sign of Gerard, no sign that he was here. 

Actually, there’s no sign of Gerard in the house. Frank searches through the entire house before he comes into the kitchen where Ray is standing.  
“Have you seen Gerard?”  
Ray shakes his head. “I thought he was with you.”  
“No, he was gone when I woke up,” Frank says.  
Ray raises an eyebrow at him, shooting him a pointed glance, turning to the coffee machine.  
Mikey choses that exact time to walk in. “What’s going on?”  
“Have you seen him?” Frank asks again, choosing to ignore Ray, though his face heats up.  
“Who?” Mikey asks  
“Gerard.”  
“No,” Mikey frowns. “He wasn’t with you?’  
“That’s weird,” Frank mutters. “That’s really weird. He’s just gone?”  
“Is it weird?”  
“Gerard wouldn’t leave without telling us,” Mikey agrees. “There’s something off about this.”  
Ray shrugs. “Search the house again. I’d hate to freak out just to find that he’s been here all along.”

But Ray is wrong. The three of them search the apartment, then the rest of the complex but there’s no sign of Gerard.  
“He took the car,” Mikey calls.  
“What?” Frank runs into the living room.  
“One of the cars. It’s gone. So are the keys.”  
“Gerard?”  
Ray nods. “It has to be. But why would he leave? Did he say anything?”  
“He was saying how we weren’t safe anymore,” Frank says slowly. “But I don’t see why he would leave because of that.”  
“My best guess,” Ray sighs. “Is that he just went off to clear his head or something. Maybe he went to get groceries or something.”  
“That early?” Mikey asks. “I got up at six and I didn’t see him leave.”  
Ray shrugs. “If he’s not back in a few hours, then we panic. I’m sure it’s nothing though. It’s Gerard; he’s a big kid. He can take care of himself.”

Frank’s already panicking though, he doesn’t wait for a few hours. But he tries to focus on other things, helping Ray and Mikey around the house as he glances at the clock every three seconds. While they do the laundry, Ray threatens to break it if Frank looks over one more time. 

But afternoon rolls around and Frank really starts to panic. There is still no sign of Gerard, not even a call, no note to be found. He glances out the window, hoping to see Gerard pulling into the driveway, smiling like he always does. But there’s nothing, no sign of him. 

“Okay, now what do we do?” Mikey asks, pacing back and forth. Frank watches his progress from the couch. “It’s not like we can alert the police or put out a missing person notice.”  
“I have no clue,” Ray sighs. “So there’s no reason why he would have left?”  
“I can’t think of any,” Frank answers. “Maybe—”  
“Maybe what?” Mikey asks.  
“He seemed pretty upset over his—your guys’ mother and that whole thing.”  
“Do you think he went to find her?” Mikey asks, a note of panic in his voice.  
“Possibly,” Ray says. “But it’s not like he could have just waltzed over there and seen. They’re all gone, all trace of them, I checked the school earlier. They won’t just easily be found.”  
“If it’s Gerard, he’ll find a way,” Frank says grimly.  
“Then what do we do?”  
“Look for more clues?” Mikey suggests. “He has to have left something, if he took off so hurriedly.”  
“Good idea,” Ray nods. “Call us if you find something.”

Frank sits back on his heels after half an hour of searching through Gerard’s bedroom. He finds nothing, nothing out of the ordinary at least. There’s nothing that signifies a reason for the hasty departures. 

“Guys!” Frank jumps up at the sound of Ray’s voice, sprinting down the hallway into the living room.  
“What is it?” Frank calls, breathless.  
Ray handed him a piece of paper. “I found this in the stairwell. I think it’s his.”  
Frank takes it, scanning Gerard’s messy scrawl. There are just a few words. _Mortuary? Graves. Storage- > Mikey, key. _  
“What does it mean?”  
“I have no clue.”  
“It says you and then a key,” Ray looks over at Mikey. “Any suggestions?”  
Mikey shrugs. “I have no clue,” he sighs. “The only keys I have are the keys to the car and the house key. He didn’t take my car keys though.”  
“It must mean something,” Frank presses. “He wouldn’t say it if it didn’t.”  
Mikey’s shoulders sag. “I’ll think about it,” he sighs. “I just have no clue.”  
“We’re not going to give up searching for him,” Ray comforts them. “We’ll find him.”

By the time it’s sunset, Frank has given up most hope. He stares at the door, praying that at any moment Gerard will walk in, but it seems more and more unlikely the longer he waits. Ray sits next to him, watching out the window, but they both know it’s hopeless.  
“The storage unit!” Mikey crows all of a sudden. Ray and Frank both spin around, staring at him. Mikey is standing in the doorway triumphantly, holding a small white envelope.  
“He took my key,” Mikey explains. “For the storage unit. Oh, of course he did. That makes so much sense now. I should have guessed. I just forgot it even existed. I thought he did too, but I should have known better.”  
Frank stares at him. “Care to fill the rest of us in?” he asks.  
“Oh, sorry,” Mikey nods. “After our parents, well after we thought they died, Gerard and I took everything we didn’t know what to do with and put it in a storage locker. I forgot we even had it until now.”  
“But why would Gerard go there?”  
Mikey stares at him. “Because that’s where all of our mother’s work is.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I may or may not have some more upcoming projects :D


	52. Here’s Your Answer In Spades

#### Gerard

Gerard pulls his hood low over his face as he creeps through the bushes, the branches scratching his face. Water soaks into his jeans, mud caking beneath his fingernails as he crawls. Just a bit further, he tells himself. Not for the first time, he wishes he was back in bed, back in the apartment, with the ones he loves. But it’s too late to go back now, he’s far from home, crouched in the bushes, trying, and failing to find the answers he so desperately wants. 

It was early in the morning when he left, slipping out the door with one last glance back at the sleeping form of Frank in his bed. He took a moment, brushing the fallen hair from Frank’s face, pressing a light kiss to his forehead before he stole away into the darkness. 

But it was too dangerous to tell the others, too dangerous to take them along. If they knew, they surely wouldn’t have let him go or they would have insisted on going with him like the stubborn idiots they were. And Gerard couldn’t have them risking their lives; he’s almost lost them already. 

But Gerard needs answers. And he needs them now. 

So hence the reason he broke into the police station, then the mortuary. Hence the reason he scanned the names, forcing down the nausea as he gazed at the pictures of the mutilated faces of his dead parents. Not so dead anymore, he thought bitterly to himself as he shoved the folder in the inside of his jacket, slipping away as the alarms wailed. It was the reason he stood in the graveyard, the only living figure among the dead, before the headstone that clearly marked the names of his parents. 

It was then that he opened the folder, scanning the death certificate in the faint light of the rosy dawn. He skims the causes of death of his parents, his throat closing as he reads the words that had been whispered in his mind for so long. As he flipped to the next page, it was then that he realized that it wasn’t his mother’s name listed there. Gerard stumbled back, staring at the headstone in front of him, his mother’s name so lovingly carved into it. Not the same one. His mother really is alive, Gerard didn’t imagine it. He remembered the mutilated faces, the gashes ripping across the skin, destroying the faces until unrecognizable. 

With a new sense of horror and fascination, Gerard looked down at the ground. Below, two feet of soil below, there lay a coffin. One that didn’t hold Gerard’s mother and instead held a different person. _One that wasn’t Gerard’s mother._

There’s one other place that he needed to go now. Gerard headed to the self storage unit where their parents’ things were stored, the key he fished out of Mikey’s sock drawer, dangling from his hand. As he pulled into the parking lot, he cursed, glancing at the clock. It’s around 6 am, too early for it to be open, but Gerard could see a light on in the office, the faint silhouette of a man sitting there. He hadn’t been here for over two years, since the day after his parents’ funeral. There were things stored here that he had forgotten about, things that he and Mikey didn’t know what to do with, but never had the guts to throw away. 

Letting out a sigh, Gerard shut off the engine. The keys jangles as he stuffs them into his pockets, crossing the near empty parking lot, his breath coming in white puffs in the chilly morning air. 

The man looked up when he knocked on the door, a look of surprise on his face. He waved Gerard off but Gerard shaked his head, motioning the man to open the door.   
“We’re closed,” the man huffed, moving to shut the door, but Gerard stopped him.   
“I only need a few minutes,” he said. “Please.”  
The man sighed, glancing back to his overturned book, but he nodded, motioning Gerard forward. 

Their footsteps echoed through the hallways as they passed orange door after orange door. Gerard glanced out the window as they passed, at the slowly lightening sky. Everyone should be waking up right around now. For a brief moment, he wondered what Frank was doing, whether or not he was awake yet.   
“What did you want anyway?” the man asked, pulling Gerard’s attention back.   
“Wanted to get an early start,” Gerard responded.   
The man let out a short laugh, but didn’t say anything else, leading Gerard to the last door.   
“Tell me when you head out,” the man called, already heading back down the hallway. Gerard nodded, fishing the key out of his pocket. He took a deep breath, glancing around, before twisting the key in the lock, pulling up the large orange door, wincing as it clanged against the metal bars and flicking on the bright fluorescent lights. 

It took him a few minute for his eyes to adjust as he scanned the mostly empty space. There are a few boxes piled on each side, his father’s familiar slanted scrawl printed on the side. Gerard stared at it for a few moments before he shook his head, stepping inside. 

Papers after papers littered the floor as he scanned through them, shifting through the mountains. Most of it was his or Mikey’s old school work, essays, problem sets. Gerard smiled to himself as he found his old doodles on the side of a notebook, a three headed alien and a winged boy stared back at him. 

Half an hour later, he found what he was looking for. 

Hidden in the way back, a small shoe box sat, tucked behind several others, small enough that if he wasn’t looking, he would have missed it. It was stapled shut, the words _Do Not Open -Dr. Way_ written in his mother’s familiar cursive. Gerard pried it open with some difficulty, dumping the contents onto the floor. 

The first thing he saw was his baby picture, tumbling out among the notebooks. It was him and Mikey, arms around each other, grinning. The sight of it made him feel sick, the knowledge of his mother in his mind. With shaking hands, Gerard took it, tucking it into his pocket as he examined the rest of the contents. Most of the notebooks were notes about himself and Mikey, diary entries from his mom. Gerard took a deep breath, flipping to the last entry, the one right before his mother’s death. 

The page was blank. Gerard stared at it in disappointment, his heart sinking. The date was on the top, the ink splotchy, along with his mother’s name. But there was no evil mastermind plan, no book saying _This Is Why I Faked My Death And Tried To Kill My Son._

Frustrated, Gerard hurled the notebook across the room, hearing it crash to the ground. He ran his hands through his hair, leaning back against the wall. What now? Accept defeat? Go home and pray that his mother doesn’t find him again? Looking up again, he saw that a stack of letters had fallen out of the notebook where he had thrown it.

He was over there, crouching on the concrete ground in a split second, thumbing through the letters. They were a correspondence between his mother and someone, whose last name was scratched out, but Gerard could see began with an S and y 

A few minutes later, he found what he was looking for. One of the notes entailed five words and an address. _It’s started. Come to us at—_ Ripping off the address, he tucked it into the pocket of his jacket, brushing his jeans off. He knew where he needed to go now. Gerard cast one last glance around the storage unit before he slammed the door shut, driving off into the morning.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> *insert plug here* if you liked this, you should check out my new work: Our Glass Hearts, the first book in the series Once Upon A Moonlight Dream!


	53. After All The Blood You Still Owe

#### Gerard

Gerard inches forward a bit more, propping himself up on his elbows in the mud. He watches as the guard paces back and forth in front of the door. He’s cold, his muscles cramping from lying in this uncomfortable position for so long. It’s almost sunset now, the sky turning a brilliant red and orange. It’s been almost twelve hours since he set out from home. 

It took him forever to reach here, from the storage unit. Through the long car ride, he tried to keep himself awake, though he dozed off occasionally. It was easier, he reminisces, when there were two of them, when he wasn’t making the journey alone. Despite the loneliness, Gerard forced himself to keep going, driving on and on until he finally reached his destination. 

His destination was a house. Seemingly mundane and ordinary, it stood, on the side of a hill, a beach stretching out on one side, forests on the other. Gerard had to take a moment and gape at the expanse of water, the calm blue surface of the lake disturbed only by a few ripples here and there. 

The house itself was magnificent. Gerard had to applaud his mother’s choice in houses. Modern and furnished, the house was square, painted white, windows stretching across each floor. He could see the warm lights from inside, the shapes of people moving back and forth. 

Gerard had skirted around the edges of the property, keeping himself low as he ducked into the bushes, crawling on his hands and knees until he could see the back door, and the guard who was watching it. Then, he waited and watched. 

Now, with the onset of night, Gerard prepares himself to move. He watches as the guard is switched out with the next one, the shifts ending. Gerard stands up, brushing the mud off of his jacket and pants as best as he can before he moves forward, stepping into the light. 

He plunges into the guard’s mind with one swift motion, pulling on a string and watching as the guard folds forward, his head lolling back as he’s sent swiftly into unconsciousness. Gerardf drags the limp form into the bushes, untangling the key ring from the guard’s belt. He mutters a quick apology as he throws on the guard’s jacket and hat, before he slips into the building. 

Gerard slips in through the open doorway, crouching in the shadows as he hears voices. He turns the next corner, his back pressed against the wall, the gun clenched in his hand. This side of the house is much different from the other, faintly lit, metal walls surrounding him as he walks. The only sound are his breaths and the sound of his footsteps as he runs down the hallway, toward the glowing exit signs. It’s far different from the bright lights and the modern furnishing of the facade of the house. 

He turns the corner, then the next, walking quickly, his head bowed. No one stops him, though a few people nod to him as he passes. Gerard swipes the guard’s identification card on the scanner, slipping into the next hallway. 

This one is similarly lit. Gerard scans the dark rooms as he passes. Most of them seem to be examination rooms of some sort, just a metal bed frame, counters, and tables. He tries the handle of another door, this one with a large warning sign nailed to the front. It’s locked. He throws his shoulder into it with no avail, it doesn’t budge.

Peering into the darkness, Gerard sees the flashing of red and blue lights, but he can’t make out any other part of it. There’s a shadowy form standing in the middle, a person, his back to Gerard. Gerard flinches back, expecting an alarm to go off at any moment. When it doesn’t move, he takes another look. _Good grief,_ he thinks to himself. _It’s just a mannequin._ It is, but strangely, it’s tied up to wires, the wires running across the room to another pedestal, where a space for another person is. Weird. Gerard casts a last glance at the strange room, before he continues on. 

Hearing voices, Gerard presses himself into the corner, a door handle digging into his spine. Heels click against the floor as several people move by, the one in front talking animatedly, hands waving. Seizing the opportunity, Gerard yanks the handle open, slipping inside. 

He’s in a closet of some sort. Gerard curses as he drops to his knees, crawling toward the pinpricks of light shining in through the back wall. His fingers brush against the rough metal of a vent and he knows he’s found what he’s looking for. 

Peering through the vent, he can see the forms of several people moving around a large mahogany table. His mother is standing at the front, before a whiteboard. Gerard squints at the drawings, but he can’t quite make out what they say. All he can see is his number, M-07 as well as Frank’s and two others, M-37 and M-26. Who those are, he’s unsure, he’s never met anyone with those numbers before. They must be like him, he realizes with a jolt. He always knew that there were others like him and Frank, other afflicted. There must have been, with all the news reports and warnings. But he had never met them or seen any trace of them. Until now. Gerard presses his ear to the door, trying to hear what she’s saying. 

There’s a strange beeping noise and Gerard looks over his shoulder to see several boxes piled around him. As carefully as he can, he rips off the tape of the first one, seeing strange devices, probably around the size of his thumb lying inside. Gerard picks it up, turning it over in his hand. It’s flat on two sides, two triangles carved into the top of it. 

“As you can see, ladies and gentlemen,” she informs them. “This is the prototype of the Curatus. It’s a device that will help us win this battle.”  
“How does it work?” A man speaks up from one side of the room.  
“Good question, Mr. Styles,” his mother responds. “Well, you see,” she flicks on a remote the device powering up. “It works in detecting the anomalies in the chemical structure of the minds of the Afflicted. It—” the rest of her words fade to a buzz in the back of Gerard’s mind. _Detecting the anomalies in the minds of the Afflicted._

 _It’s a tracker,_ he realizes. _Something that they can use to find out who we are and what we are._ Shit. Geard scrambles backward, his hands pressing against the wall as he searches for the door handle. He has to get out of here. He has to get out— 

His mother’s voice catches his attention. “Wait,” she mutters. “We’re not alone.” On the table, the device is going crazy, flashing red and blue. The similar one in Gerard’s hand is doing the same, flaring up. Gerard freezes, fear pounding through him. 

His mother takes a step forward, her gun in her hand as she stares at the closet door. Though he knows that she can’t see him, there’s no way that’s possible, her gaze lands directly on Gerard.

“Fuck,” Gerard mutters.


	54. I’m A Total Wreck

#### Frank

Ray forces them to wait until morning. Frank hates him for it, but he has to admit there is logic in it, despite how he fumes, sitting cross legged on his bed, staring at the wall. It takes everything in him not to sneak into Ray’s room, steal the keys, and run after Gerard. But Ray’s literally sleeping on the car keys 

“If you even try, Iero,” he warned before he forced Frank to eat something. “I’ll stick this thing in places you don’t even want to know. Now, go take a shower.”  
 _What are you, my mom?_ Frank wanted to retort, but his mother wouldn’t have cared, so he got up and let Ray push him into the bathroom. 

Frank knows he should try to sleep, but he can’t bring himself to. Instead, he paces around the small guest room, not a guest room anymore now that Mikey and Ray designated it to him. Still, he can’t quite think of it as _his_ room yet, he’s barely slept in it. He feels more at home in Gerard’s room. 

Frank lies down, tossing and turning as he tries to get comfortable. Everything just seems wrong. The blinds are too thin, letting in too much light. Mikey’s snoring is louder from here. The bed is too soft. Frank knows he’s being picky, but he can’t sleep. Instead, he lies awake, staring at the ceiling, listening to another car drive by. 

At last Frank gives up. He’s too uncomfortable, something digging into his neck every time he moves. He doesn’t bother checking the clock, knowing it’s going to be morning soon anymore. He sits up, kicking his blankets aside, almost jumping out of his skin as something crinkles. 

Searching around under his pillow, his fingers close on something. Frank frowns as he pulls it out, flicking on the lamp on his nightstand. It’s a folded piece of paper, one that he’s pretty certain isn’t his. 

With shaking fingers, Frank unfolds the piece of paper, seeing Gerard’s unmistakable handwriting. _Don’t come after me,_ the note reads.

“Like hell,” Frank mutters, crumpling up the paper and shoving it into his pocket. 

The door creaks open silently as Frank tiptoes out onto the landing. He can hear Ray and Mikey both snoring from here as he creeps across the cold wooden floor, pressing his hand against Gerard’s bedroom door. 

As he pushes it open, his eyes adjusting to the light, Frank almost wants to turn and run. He knows that Gerard’s not there, but a part of him hopes that when he looks down, Gerard will be there, curled on the bed. Frank takes a deep breath, looking over at the pile of rumpled blankets on the bed. 

It’s empty. Of course it is. Frank sighs as he shuts the door behind him, crossing to Gerard’s bed. He hesitates before he pulls the covers over himself. It smells like Gerard, the familiarity washing over Frank as he closes his eyes, drifting off into sleep. 

Frank doesn’t dream for once, maybe he’s just too exhausted too. For a moment, there’s a flash of red and blue. Then Gerard crouching in the darkness, but other than that, there’s nothing but silence. 

He’s woken up way too soon by Ray shaking him gently. Ray doesn’t say anything, just pats Frank’s head as the two of them walk down to the car. 

The car ride itself is tense as hell. Mikey’s on edge, he’s on edge. The only calm one seems to be Ray, who is driving, one hand on the steering wheel as he gazes out at the city. Frank has the urge to jump out of the car several times, but he refrains from doing so. Instead, he pulls his baseball cap lower over his face, hoping it will stop him from being recognized. Reaching over, he hits the on switch to the radio for the fifth time.   
“Stop it,” Mikey snaps, reaching over and flicking it off again.  
“What if he’s been captured?” Frank frets. “They’d say something about it.”  
“He’s not,” Ray says firmly. “He’s Gerard. You really think he’d get captured that easily?”  
Frank has to agree with that, though it doesn’t calm his nerves. With a triumphant glance, Mikey switches off the radio one last time, leaving the car in silence as they pull into the parking lot of the storage unit.

It’s at the edge of town, in a desolate part too. The only color is from the bright orange of the doors, a color that Frank honestly thinks is way too obnoxious, but he doesn’t say anything as he follows Ray to the office.   
“Excuse me?” Ray taps on the window. “Have you seen a boy around our age? Black hair, about this tall. We think he came through here yesterday morning.”  
The man squints at him before he nods. “Yes, interesting fellow. Came in before we were open, sun barely risen. Why?”  
“He’s missing,” Mikey says. “Can you let us into the storage unit?” He shows the man the envelope.  
“Do you have a key?”  
“No, he took it,” Mikey says.   
The man sighs. “I can’t,” he sighs. “It’s in the rules.” Not for the first time, Frank desperately wishes Gerard was here. Gerard would just do some fancy mind trick and the man would let them in.  
“Please, he’s my brother,” Mikey begs. “We just need five minutes.”  
The man hesitates glancing at Mikey, then at Frank, then at Ray and back again. _He’s going to let us,_ Frank thinks.   
“Fine,” he sighs. “Not a word of this, okay? And only five minutes.”  
“Thank you so much,” Mikey says. “We owe you.”

The storage unit is a complete mess. Boxes are lying on their sides, papers spilled across the room, notebooks lying in piles. Frank looks around desperately. For one stupid moment, he almost hopes that Gerard is actually hiding out in here. But he’s obviously not. It’s just piles of paper and dust in the storage unit. 

“What the hell happened?” Mikey exclaims, kneeling down beside a pile of paper. Frank watches as he shifts through. “Why did he make such a mess?”  
“It was him, right?” Frank asks, turning to the man.  
“He’s the only one I know of who came here,” the man responds. “Haven’t heard of a break in.”  
“He must have been really desperate then,” Mikey sighs.   
“We better start looking,” Ray says grimly. 

Frank’s head begins to hurt after about thirty minutes of reading through lab report after lab report, numbers swirling in his mind. His legs begin to ache from kneeling for so long as he shifts his position, lying on his stomach as he continues. There’s nothing, nothing useful at least. Frank learns a decent amount about how the frontal lobe and thalamus work, but other than that, there’s nothing. 

At last he rests his head on his arms, flipping dejectedly through another notebook. He might have drifted off at some point because when he opens his eyes, Mikey is calling his name.   
“Frank.”   
Frank looks up blearily to see Mikey crouching next to him.   
“We should go,” Mikey tells him, casting a glance over to where Ray is chatting with the man.   
“Why?” Frank asks. “Did you find—” his voice trails off as Mikey shakes his head, handing him a stack of letters. 

Frank grabs it from him, skimming over it. It’s a correspondence between someone who he assumes is Gerard’s mother and someone else. Everything is intact, except the place where the address should be written. _Come to us at—_ the rest of it is ripped off.  
“He took the address with him,” Mikey says softly. “Wherever he went, he doesn’t want us to follow.”


	55. Another Cog In The Murder Machine

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> *Warning: this chapter is kinda bloody*

#### Gerard 

His footsteps pound down the hallway as he sprints, gasping for breath as he turns the corner. In his hand, the little plastic object is still clutched, though it’s gone quiet. Why he didn’t drop it, he doesn’t know, it’s definitely going to catch their attention soon. But Gerard knows it’s important. Evidence, something they need to study, because if the prototype becomes a reality, they are doomed. 

The door looms at the end of the hallway as Gerard runs toward it, hearing the sound of footsteps, but they’re not just his. The guards are hot on his trail as he sprints toward the door. Just a few more steps, just a few more steps—

His hand touches the cold of the metal as he scrambles for the handle, twisting it, praying it will open. He’s almost out, if it works, then he can get out and go home. 

It’s locked. 

“No, no, no.” Gerard frantically twists the handle, slamming his hand against the door. “C’mon, c’mon,” he mutters. “Come on, you stupid piece of shit.” He throws his shoulder into the door, but with no luck. Gerard glances back, seeing the shadows of men looming on the ground as the barrel of a gun emerges from around the corner. “Shit!”

There’s only one thing left to do, one thing that he promised himself he’d never do again. But he can’t not do it this time. He has to. Gerard takes a deep breath before stepping away from the door, a strange calm coming over him. He has to do this, if he wants them to be safe again. If he ever wants to get out alive. _Gerard, all I need is for you to be safe._

By the time the guards turn the corner, Gerard is nowhere to be seen. Instead, he’s crouched silently in the shadows, holding his breath as they pass him, flashlights sweeping along the metallic floor, casting an eerie glow up the walls. His heart pounds in his chest, so loud he’s surprised they don’t hear him. Gerard wipes his hands on his jeans, cold and clammy with sweat, before he stands up, moving into the light with one stride. 

The sound of the prototype clattering to the ground, makes the men spin around, the flashlights landing on Gerard from where he stands, his hands outstretched. Not running. Not hiding. Waiting. 

For a moment, there’s just silence as the guards stare, before fingers tighten on triggers, the men waiting for the order. The boy is standing right before them, his head tilted up, arms outstretched. There’s a gleam in his eye, one that’s almost predatory as the corners of his lips twitch up into a smile. The guard in front opens his mouth to give the order. 

But Gerard gives it first. 

_Fire._

It only takes one spark to start a flame. One breath to upset the balance. One flap of a butterfly’s wings to cause destruction. The word echoes through the minds, growing louder and louder, spiraling into every sense. Gerard watches with almost horrid fascination, his palms tingling as he feels synapses firing. In an instant, he’s connected to every single neuron. The cerebellum is too easy to access, to easy to move, the frontal gyruses too easy to manipulate. It takes a single push, hardly any effort as Gerard stands, staring as guns are lifted toward him. But the barrels swivel, aiming back at the men who hold them before the gunshots ring out across the air. 

They’re dead within an instant. 

Blood showers over him. The coppery tang fills his senses, the metallic taste on his tongue. He reaches up, touching his face. Slick blood against his fingers, warm and wet, crusting as it dries. He hears the muffled thud as the bodies crumple to the ground like marionettes falling from strings, the faint popping of joints and squelching as everything goes silent and Gerard is left standing. 

And all he feels is triumph. 

Gerard takes a step forward, toward the bodies before he freezes. For a moment, all he sees is Frank. Frank, smiling at him, his hazel eyes glinting in the sun. The two of them dancing in the darkened living room. Frank’s hand against Gerard’s face, the gentle touch of their lips. The soft sound of breaths, a heartbeat resonating softly, the sound of the being alive. Then Frank is standing in front of him, in the hallway, his eyes wide with horror. _What did you do?_ he cries. _Gerard, what did you just do?_

Gerard yanks himself back into reality, but it’s too late. Frank’s not really here, he just imagined it. But what happened—it’s too vivid to be a dream even though he desperately wishes it is as he gazes at the destruction. 

There’s too much blood. In the dim light of a flashlight, he can see the scarlet pooling on the ground, dark and shining in the light. Blood is soaked through his clothing, the harsh iron tang making him retch. It’s everywhere, warm and sticky as he stumbles backward, falling to the ground. He gags, trying to desperately scrape it off of himself, crawling back as he does. His fingers brush against something soft. 

It’s a lock of hair, blond and matted with blood. Gerard forces his nausea down, struggling to his feet. Get out of here, get out of here, get out of— 

Maybe it’s curiosity, maybe it’s another force, but Gerard’s gaze drifts up for a moment. And a moment is enough for him to see the horror. The faces are destroyed, just gaping cavities where the skulls should be. Something white gleams in the puddle of blood. 

He wants to let out a scream, but no sound comes out but desperate gasps and pants as he struggles to get away, struggling to breathe, clawing desperately at his arms as he stumbles out into the open air, sinking to his knees in the mud, not caring, not feeling, not—

And then Gerard is gone.


	56. You’re The One That I Need

#### Frank

After the knowledge sinks in, Frank goes numb. He doesn’t remember going home, just sitting on the couch, saying _it can’t be_ over and over again. 

The next few days fly by in a haze. Frank moves, as if caught in a stupor, doing as Ray and Mikey tell him to, moving methodically. He sits by the radio, listening for any sign of Gerard. He helps Ray and Mikey around the house. Frank does anything really, to keep his mind off the fact that Gerard might be lost to them forever. 

At last he stumbles up to his room, exhausted, trying and failing at keeping himself upright. Frank pushes open the door, freezing as a soundless gasp escapes from his lips. 

Gerard is standing, facing the window, his back turned to Frank when Frank stares. 

“Jesus Christ!” Frank clutches his heart stumbling backward. “You motherfucker. You scared me. What the hell are you doing anyway?”  
“I needed to see you,” Gerard comes closer to him, his hands reaching out to Frank.  
“That’s all you’re gonna say?” Frank exclaims. “Where the hell have you been?”  
Gerard hesitates, his gaze falling to the floor. 

For a moment, Frank thinks he’s dreaming. It wouldn’t be surprising honestly, at this point. He digs his fingernails into his thigh, wincing at the sharp pain. So he is not dreaming. That means that Gerard is actually here. 

He looks more haggard, exhausted. There are dark bags under his eyes, lines of tension creasing his face, ones that Frank desperately wants to kiss and make go away. Long scratches line the side of his face, ones that look painful to touch. But it’s Gerard and he’s here. His gaze travels over Gerard, seeing the mud staining his clothes. He realizes that Gerard’s white T-shirt is stained with blood. Not just stained. Soaked in blood. 

“Is that blood?” Frank exclaims.  
“It’s not mine,” Gerard says quickly.  
“Like that supposed to make me feel better. What happened? Where were you?”  
Gerard closes his eyes briefly before reopening them. “I can’t say,” he mutters. “Please, Frankie. Don’t tell the others I was here.”  
“Why not?”  
“I can’t tell you.”  
“Well you better give me a damned better explanation than that or I’m going right now,” Frank threatens taking a step toward the door. 

Before he even can get three steps away, he’s on his back on the bed, Gerard pinning him down, looking down at him.  
“Please just trust me.” The desperation in Gerard’s voice freaks him out even more than he was before.  
“Okay now you’re scaring me.” Frank tries to wriggle his way out but he can’t.  
“I wasn’t before?” The most annoying thing about Gerard, Frank decides is that Frank can’t hide anything from him.  
“Touché,” Frank mutters. He lets out a noise of surprise as Gerard suddenly fully drops down on top of him, his body pressed against Frank’s. 

“How about now?” Gerard whispers, his breath warm against Frank’s neck. Frank shivers at the sensation, as Gerard caresses the side of his face.  
“I couldn’t ever be scared of you,” Frank replies honestly. “Gee, what’s going on? Is it about your parents? Your powers?”  
“I did something bad,” Gerard murmurs. “Frankie, I did something I regret. I just don’t know what to do. I shouldn’t have come anyway. I just missed you. I needed you too much. But I shouldn’t. You should be scared of me.”  
“Why?”  
“Because I’m dangerous. I’ve killed people.” Frank realizes with a twisting sense that Gerard isn’t lying. The blood on the clothes isn’t Gerard’s. It’s someone else’s, possibly multiple people’s.  
“I’ve killed people,” Gerard says again, as if Frank didn’t hear him the first time. “They’re all dead, Frankie, they’re all dead because of me.”  
“You should be afraid of me!” Gerard hisses. “Frankie, I kill people, that’s what I do. I hurt people and I’ll hurt you.”  
“I’m never going to be afraid of you,” Frank tells him, forcing conviction into his voice. He needs Gerard to know this. “Never. I know you would never hurt me. I know it. _I know it._ So trust me,” he pulls Gerard closer. “And please come home.”  
Gerard doesn’t respond, he just buries his face in Frank’s neck, his fingers stroking Frank’s hair.  
“Come back,” Frank whispers, pulling away and entwining his fingers with Gerard’s. “Please. We miss you. Mikey is beyond worry.”  
“I will,” Gerard whispers. “Just not yet. There’s something I need to do first.”  
“Please just stay,” Frank begs.  
Gerard shakes his head. “You’re in too much danger,” he says.  
“From you or from something else?”  
“Both.” Gerard gazes at him for a while before finally clearing his throat. “I should stay away from you,” he whispers.  
“But you don’t have to worry about me,” Frank says, cupping Gerard’s face in his hands. “I’m always gonna love you. You don’t have to hide from me, nothing you do is gonna scare me. I know you won’t hurt me. No matter what I won’t be afraid of you.”  
“I almost wish you were sometimes,” Gerard whispers, his fingertips trailing lightly over Frank’s lips before he’s gone. 

As he wakes, Frank wonders if it was really just a dream. But the rumpled blankets next to him suggest otherwise. _There is not even a note,_ Frank thinks bitterly. _He spends the night with me, then disappears right after._ Frank takes a moment, lying there before he begins to get dressed. Maybe it was just a dream after all. 

Frank sighs, reaching for his shirt. As he does so, he notices something that wasn’t there before. There’s a small heart drawn on the inside of his left wrist in permanent marker, the black ink still drying. 

“Have you heard anything from Gerard?” Mikey's voice catches him off guard.  
“Uh, no,” Frank responds, rubbing his eyes. He really wishes Mikey had asked him this after he had his coffee. He’s unsure of how well he can lie right now.  
Mikey's shoulders sag. “I really hope he’s okay,” he mutters.  
“I bet he’s fine,” Ray reassures. “You know Gerard. He goes off and disappears for a while and he comes back with all the problems of the universe solved.”  
“He’ll come back soon,” Frank says, trying to convince himself more than Mikey. “He’s coming back to us. I promise.”


	57. Can We Settle The Score?

#### Frank

Gerard is standing in a pool of blood. At least that’s what Frank sees as he walks down the hallway, the scarlet reflecting off the metallic walls around him. But Gerard is unarmed as he stares at his hands. There’s so much blood, more than seems physically possible, Frank notes as he steps carefully over a puddle. 

Somehow, he must have alerted Gerard, who looks up, staring right at him, his eyes dark. There’s something in his gaze which makes Frank shiver, the strange hungry look, almost predatory one that makes Gerard look dangerous, maybe even insane for a split second. Then Gerard’s face clears, his eyes going wide as his gaze meets Frank’s. And then he’s gone. 

Frank tries to ignore the strangeness of his dream as he wakes in his room. Running a hand through his hair, he opens the door, Mikey handing him a shopping list as soon as he gets one foot out the door. 

“Morning to you too,” Frank calls after Mikey’s retreating back.

A few hours later, he’s done, thankful for the work to keep him busy. “Ray?” Frank calls, shouldering a few bags as he kicks the door open. “Where do you want me to put the groceries? Oh and they didn’t have any—”

“Need a hand?” 

Frank almost jumps out of his skin as he sets the bags on the counter, looking toward the source of the voice. Gerard is standing in the living room as if he’s always been there. 

Frank stares at him for a few moments, giving him a one over. Gerard looks better than he did the last time Frank saw him. He’s at least changed, no longer covered in blood. The look of horror and shock on his face has been replaced by one of coo, indifference. If Frank didn’t know any better, he might have assumed he had dreamt up the past couple weeks. Maybe Gerard never left, maybe it was all a nightmare. 

“No thank you,” Frank responds stiffly as he opens a cupboard, putting a few boxes away.   
Gerard opens his mouth, about to say something just as Mikey and Ray barge in laughter dying in their lips as they see Gerard.   
“Where the hell have you been?” Mikey exclaims, his fists balled at his side. Frank almost thinks that Mikey is going to punch Gerard, and hell, if he does, Frank can’t promise that he won’t join and get a couple of swings in himself. 

“There’s no time to explain,” Gerard says tersely. “I found them, Mikey. I found her.”  
“What do you mean found her?” Mikey pesters. “Where the hell were you? What’s going on?”  
“Let him breathe,” Ray says, putting his hand on Mikey’s shoulder. He looks over at Gerard. “You need to give us a bit more information that that. Do you want anything?”   
“Some water?” Gerard asks. Frank realizes he hasn’t moved at all, turning back to his task, slowly and methodically putting a gallon of milk into the fridge. Ray casts him a glance, but doesn’t say anything as he hands Gerard a glass of water.  
Gerard nods, staring at his cup as if it was the most interesting thing. “Well,” he says slowly. “I took the key—”  
“We know that,” Frank says, his voice harsher than he means it. “We know you went to the storage unit and found the address and then left without telling us.”  
“Frank, I’m—”  
“What happened?”  
Gerard sighs. “I broke into the mortuary and found the death records. It was all a lie. It’s not her we buried.”  
“What about Dad?” Mikey asks, his voice sounding small.   
Guilt flashes over Gerard’s face as he looks away. “Dad’s dead, she must have had him killed when she faked her death.”  
“What are they planning?” Ray asks.   
Gerard sucks in a breath. “Nothing good.”

Ray probably has the most common sense out of any of them, Frank reasons as he sits on the couch listening to the shower running. He wants answers and now; they all did. But rsm somehow convinced them to wait until Gerard had taken a shower and gotten settled. 

“So what happened? You went to the address? Then what? What was there?”  
“A house,” Gerard responds. “It’s where our mother is hiding out. I snuck in. And I found this.”  
They all stare at the flat device Gerard holds in his palm. It’s flat on two sides, merely a few inches long, two triangles carved on the side.   
Frank shivers at the sight of it. “What is it?” he asks, plucking it from Gerard’s hand and turning it over. It’s flashing red and blue in his palm.   
“See how it’s going off?” Gerard asks. “I disabled the alarm and the tracker. But basically it flashes whenever there’s a person like us nearby, one of the Afflicted.”  
“What does this mean?” Ray questions.   
“It means that they’ll be able to track you, right?” Mikey cuts in. “That all they need to do is install these around, and you’re a goner.”  
“Exactly,” Gerard says.   
“How did you get this?” Ray asks, taking it from Frank.   
“I snuck in and stole it,” Gerard responds.   
“You didn’t get caught? How?”  
Gerard hesitates before shrugging. “I just got lucky, I guess.”

There’s a heavy silence that falls over the apartment afterward. Ray is still examining the little device, Mikey peering over his shoulder while Frank still has his gaze fixed on the floor, staring at the tiles. At last, Ray clears his throat, glancing anxiously from Frank to Gerard.   
“I’m gonna go study this some more,” he excuses himself, Mikey following him. 

“Are you mad at me?” Gerard speaks at last.   
Frank stares at him. “Duh,” he answers. “How could I not? You disappeared right after telling me you loved me. And we haven’t heard shit from you for three weeks before you turn up in my room, drenched in blood and leave again until you appeared here today. If Mikey doesn’t punch you, I surely will.”  
“Frank—”  
“Where were you for the last three days?” Frank challenges. “Why didn’t you stay?”   
“Last three days?” Mikey pauses at the doorway, looking at Frank curiously. “What do you mean?”  
Gerard keeps his gaze fixed on Frank. “I came to see him. Don’t—” he says, holding up his hand as Mikey seems like he’s about to explode. “Don’t blame him. I told him not to tell you guys.”  
Mikey just shakes his head, the door to Ray’s study slamming behind him. 

“I missed you,” Frank mumbles at last. “I was really worried. We all were.”   
Gerard looks at him guiltily. “Frank, I’m really sorry.”   
“I just don’t understand,” Frank says. “Why hide this from me? Why hide this from us? We could have helped. You said you wouldn’t hide anything from us—from me again.”   
“Because it was too dangerous,” Gerard answers.   
“Bullshit.”  
“It was. You—I—” Gerard’s eyes flare with anger as he fumbles for words. Frank suddenly remembers the dream he had. Gerard, in the hallway, covered in blood. Gerard in his room, telling Frank that he should be afraid.   
“Gerard, what really happened?” Frank asks.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Merry Christmas if you celebrate it! If not, happy normal day!


	58. But Nobody Cares If You’re Losing Yourself

#### Frank

The two of them stare at each other for what seems like eternity, Frank fuming and regret flashing through Gerard’s eyes.   
“What happened?” Frank asks again slowly.   
Gerard flinches. “Nothing,” he mutters. “Really, nothing did.”  
“Gerard—”  
“Frank, nothing happened. I swear.”  
“Really?” Frank yells, his temper finally getting the better of him. “Then why did you show up in my room three days ago, covered in blood and not answering any questions? Why won’t you tell us the truth?” Gerard looks like he wants to say something, but Frank isn’t done. “If you want me to trust you, you have to give me something. Why didn’t you leave a note? Why didn’t you stay when I asked you to? Why did you come to see me in the first place? You disappear, then come back because you need our help, is that it? I’ve been out of my mind for weeks, Gerard, weeks! We searched everywhere for you and you didn’t even leave us a note. I thought you got captured, for heaven’s sake! Then you just turned up out of nowhere, acting as if everything was normal. You disappeared after you told me you loved me. Is it true? Do you really love me? I’m asking this for the last time. _Gerard, what happened_?”  
Gerard doesn’t answer; he simply holds Frank’s gaze with an unwavering one of his own. Frank forces himself to take a deep breath, his fingernails digging into his palms, leaving tiny white crescent shaped marks. His head spins as he struggles to keep his gaze locked with Gerard’s. _Gerard didn’t answer his question._ Somewhere, inside of him, Frank’s heart seems to implode into a million shining pieces.   
“What aren’t you telling us?” Frank softens his voice, his throat raw. “Gee, please. I—we deserve to know. If we’re going to help you with this, we need to know.”

Gerard stares at him for a while longer before dropping his gaze.   
“You’re going to hate me,” he mumbles. “You already do, Mikey does too. Don’t—” he says, holding up his hand as Frank opens his mouth. “Lie to me. I know.”  
“Tell me,” Frank says softly.   
Gerard looks up at him and to Frank’s surprise, Gerard’s eyes are filled with tears.   
“What I said was true,” he whispers. “You should be afraid of me.”  
Frank resists the urge from moving over to him, his anger winning out. He instead folds his arms over his chest, fingers digging into his arms to stop himself from moving. 

Gerard watches him for a while longer before taking a deep breath. “I killed eight people,” Gerard says flatly. “After I broke into the place where my mom is hiding and stole this from her. I lied. She caught me. They knew I was there and I had to run. That’s why I couldn’t come back. I was too scared I’d hurt you too.” The last part is mumbled under his breath, the words breaking Frank’s heart.  
“Then why did you come to see me?” Frank asks tentatively.  
Gerard looks up at him, meeting his gaze. “Because you make it better,” he answers. “Because I knew I shouldn’t have but I needed to see you. Because when I was killing them, for a second, I almost couldn’t stop. There was this urge to keep going and I really wanted to. But then I saw you.”  
“Saw me?”  
Gerard nods. “Just for a split second, in my mind. I saw you and you pulled me back.”  
“I’m dangerous.”  
“We’re both dangerous,” Frank counters. “I could kill people.”  
“Could you?” Gerard asks, the corners of his mouth twitching.   
“I bet so,” Frank says indignantly, crossing his arms. “I do have superpowers.” He almost wants to smile, his gaze flickering up to meet Gerard’s. 

“You should have told me,” Frank sighs. “You should have said something from the beginning.”  
“I had to—” Gerard looks down. “I know that my powers sometimes bother you—”  
“You could’ve at least said something!” Frank exclaims. “We thought you were dead or captured or—” he sighs. “I thought we talked about this. It’s okay, I’m okay with it. I’d rather you tell me this than disappear!”  
“I can’t lose you,” Gerard hisses. “Any of you. I couldn’t risk it. After Mikey got hurt—” he shakes his head. “I can’t, okay? I needed to make sure you were safe.”  
“We could have helped,” Frank protests. “We can defend ourselves, you know.”  
Gerard gives him a pained look, one full of sorrow and regret. “I know,” he murmurs. “But I’ve seen you all get hurt too much before. I just can’t let it happen again.”  
“I’m not a child,” Frank snaps. “I can take care of myself. I don’t need protecting.”  
Gerard hesitates at his answer. “Frankie, I—”  
“Trust me,” Frank begs. “Gerard, trust me on this. You don’t have to worry about me. I can protect myself just fine. Trust me on this and stop hiding things from me. Promise me this.”  
Gerard looks away from him and Frank knows he has lost, his heart sinking in his chest.  
“You said I could trust you,” Frank reminds him.   
“You can,” Gerard says desperately, looking back over at him.   
“Do you love me?” Four words, each one feeling like a stab to the back as he says them. He doesn’t care if Ray and Mikey are silent in the other room, listening to him yelling. All he cares about is the way that Gerard’s gaze flits up to Frank’s face.  
“Of course,” Gerard whispers. “Frank, of course I love you. Everything I said was true. I never lied to you—”  
“Until now.”   
Gerard flinches as if the words physically sting. “Frank, I’m really sorry,” Gerard pleads. “But please, believe me. I love you, it’s because I love you that I can’t have anything happen to you. I have to keep you safe and away from her. I can’t lose you, I can’t bear to see you hurt. All I need is for you to be safe, that’s the only thing I need. That’s why I left, I thought I could solve this by myself and make it safe for all of us again. But I can’t and I need your help, all of your guys’ help. I can’t do this alone.”  
“I’ll help you,” Frank says slowly. “Obviously. I’m not so much of an asshole that I’ll let people die. But I don’t know if I can trust you anymore.”


	59. The Sun Is Ashamed To Rise

#### Gerard

Frank gives him the cold shoulder for the next few days. He doesn't outright ignore Gerard, he just pretends as if he doesn't exist, leaving the room just as Gerard enters. The only conversations they have consist of a few words. 

Gerard: “Good morning.”  
Frank: “Morning.”  
Gerard: “Nice weather.”  
Frank: “It is.”

Or

Gerard: “Hi.”  
Gerard: “Did you sleep well?”  
Frank: “Nope.”

And that is just about it. 

More than anything, he wants to hold Frank, wants to touch him, wants to just be with him again. He wants to so much that it hurts, it burns as if he’s been shot. But he can’t. So Gerard spends most of his time with Ray instead, leaving Frank and Mikey to fume about him together. 

“They hate me,” Gerard sighs. “They really do.”  
Ray glances over at him sympathetically. “You did freak all of us out,” he reminds.   
“I said I’m sorry,” Gerard groans. “I really mean it. I just want to make it up to them.”

Ray shrugs, still diligently focused on the little piece of plastic. “Hand me the screwdriver, will you? Just give them time. They’ll come around.”  
Gerard sighs, handing the tool over as he fits in the last piece of his own work. 

“But I want to make it up already.” Gerard knows he sounds like a three year old.   
Ray glances over at him. “Hey I didn't say I wasn’t pissed either. Just give them time. They were both out of their minds with worry. We all were.”  
“I know,” Gerard sighs. “I shouldn’t have, I know. It’s just that—”   
“What?”  
“I’m scared of losing them. Of losing you. I’ve always had this problem, I guess. I push people away because I’m scared to get close. If I get closed I lose them. So it’s easier to keep people at arms length. And I know it’s not an excuse or anything. I’m just scared that if I take them with me then they’ll get hurt.”  
“We can protect ourselves, you know,” Ray reminds him gently.   
“Frank said the exact same thing.” Gerard groans. “So what do I do?”  
“My advice?” Ray asks. “Don’t. You just end up regretting it. Spend time with the people you care about. Make it worthwhile. Show them that you love them. Losing them will be hard but at least you won’t regret not spending time with them.”  
“You and Mikey should be therapists,” Gerard muses. “But thanks.”

~&~&~&~&~

“So, what’s the plan?” Mikey asks as they’re all gathered around the table.   
“Did you call us for a reason?” Frank asks. He still won’t meet Gerard’s gaze. 

“They’re holding a gala of some sort there tomorrow,” Gerard informs them. “To show off the prototype. I think I can get us in.”  
“How?”  
“Through the back,” Gerard says, pulling out a roll of paper and spreading it out on the table. He’s focused, his eyes gleaming with intensity. “There are two different sides to the building. One is just a facade. The other is where the prototypes are.”  
“Do I want to know how you got the blueprint?”  
“Stole it from the county clerk’s office there,” Gerard answers smoothly.   
“And I assume we’re invited?” Ray asks.   
“We are now.” Gerard smiles grimly.   
“I don’t even want to know,” Mikey mutters. “So, what do you need?”  
“Two teams,” Gerard responds. “One team will monitor the cameras and get to the files as the other deals with the prototypes.”  
“Deals with the prototypes how?” Mikey asks.   
Ray places a box on the table. “These,” he says, a slight hint of pride in his voice.   
“That’s what you’ve been doing?” Mikey asks, exasperated, peeking inside. “Building IEDs?”  
Frank doesn’t seem to be bothered though, taking one and turning it over in his hand.   
“Put it down,” Gerard says crossly.  
“You’re not the boss of me,” Frank shoots back, tossing it to his other hand.   
“What are you, five?”  
“Actually—”  
“Oh my god,” Ray sighs. “Literally stop it. Both of you are two year olds. Frank, put the bomb down. Gerard, take a step back. And stop arguing for like ten minutes! Jeez!”

Gerard mutters an apology, moving backward. Frank hesitates for a moment, looking from the bomb to Gerard as if he’s contemplating throwing it, but he drops it back on the table, sitting down in a chair instead. 

“Thank you,” Ray says. “Gerard, please continue with the plan.”  
“Right, uh,” Gerard glances back down to the papers. “Mikey and Ray handle the security cameras and get everyone out. We plant the bombs and destroy the prototypes. All without my mother even knowing.”  
“What about me?” Frank asks. He’s staring at Gerard with a challenge in his eyes.   
“Frank and I will get into the building,” Gerard continues, sneaking a glance over at Frank, who merely shrugs, looking away.   
“Won’t they be monitoring for you?” Mikey asks “If the prototypes work, they will be able to sense you.”  
“That’s why you and Ray get in beforehand, messing with the charging stations of the prototypes,” Gerard says. “And place these in.” He puts five on the table, seemingly exact copies that he and Ray had perfected early that day. They were down to every last detail, but modified so the alarms and lights wouldn’t go off.   
“They’ll never know,” Frank says, his eyes gleaming. “Oh, this is perfect.”  
Gerard grins at him. “And then on the day, Mikey and Ray sneak in and handle the security cameras and get to the documents that our mother has. Frank, we put the bombs in place and—”  
“Kaboom,” Frank says, nodding sagely.   
“Sounds like a plan,” Mikey says.   
“What’s the gala thing?” Frank asks. “You got us invited?”  
Gerard nods. “That’s what I was doing when I—” he trails off. “It’s not really a gala. It’s a ball. A masquerade ball.”   
“A masquerade ball?” Frank exclaims, exasperated. “Who the hell holds those anymore?”  
“Our mother always loved the dramatics,” Mikey mutters.   
“Just think of it as the perfect opportunity,” Gerard leans forward. “They won’t be able to see us. It’s the perfect disguise. We can blend in.”  
Frank rolls his eyes but he’s smiling. “These things always looked fun,” he says. “But I can’t dance.”  
“I know,” Gerard grins. “But neither can I, so we can fail together.”  
“That sounds dreadful.”  
“You didn’t do terribly last time,” Gerard points out.   
The smile slips from Frank’s face as he glances away. “Yeah,” he mumbles. “I guess not.”


	60. Drain All The Blood And Give The Kids A Show

#### Frank

Ray and Mikey come back later that night, faces flushed with triumph. Anticipation fills Frank as he greets them. Step one done. According to Ray, they had snuck in with Gerard’s help, dressing up as the guards and planting the prototypes inside without so much of a hitch in the plan. It’s now his and Gerard’s turn. 

“You guys ready?” Ray asks.   
Frank glances over at Gerard, immediately regretting it as his eyes meet Gerard’s. “Yeah,” he replies.   
Ray raises an eyebrow, glancing back and forth between them.  
“Okay, I’m sick of this,” Ray says at last. “Can you two stop your petty fight?”  
“What fight?” Frank asks.   
“We’re not fighting,” Gerard says at the same time.   
Mikey rolls his eyes, leaning back against the couch. “Do you want to take this or shall I?” he asks Ray.  
Ray sighs. “Just for tonight,” he says. “Just for this goddamn mission, please. Punch each other. Fuck each other again. Sign a peace treaty. I don’t know. Whatever you need to do.”   
“Again?” Mikey gives Gerard a horrified glance. “Gerard! Oh no, I don’t want to know.”  
Frank stares at the wooden floor, knowing the tips of his ears must be bright scarlet. Gerard gives an awkward cough from across the table. The punching option is sounding pretty good to him right now.   
“Well this is awkward,” Ray sighs. “Gerard, can I run this by you?” Frank keeps his gaze fixed on the ground as he hears the scrap of a chair as Gerard and Ray leave Frank and Mikey in the living room.

“What—actually, I’m not going to ask,” Mikey says. “I don’t want to know. I’m forgetting about this right now.”  
“Please do,” Frank sighs. “I really don’t need this conversation.”  
“But really, you two—did you at least use—” Mikey shakes his head. “Nope. I really, really don’t need to know. Anyway, we picked up the stuff you might need.”  
“Oh, thanks.” Frank blows out his breath, glad for the change of topic. “What’d you get?”  
“Orange jumpsuits,” Mikey responds as he hands Frank a tuxedo.  
“Amazing,” Frank responds dryly.  
“Gerard was asking about you this morning,” Mikey says. Frank gives him a sort of side eye as he takes the suit from Mikey’s hands.   
“What did he say?” Frank asks, busying himself with a bag that Mikey hands him. “Makeup?”  
Mikey nods. “It’s all in there. He was just asking how you were.”  
“You forgiven him yet?”  
“Hell no,” Mikey responds instantly. “Well, maybe. Yeah, I guess so.”  
“Make up your mind,” Frank groans. “Choose a side.”  
“There aren’t any sides,” Mikey chastises.   
“Why do you always sound so old?”  
“Someone has to be the smart one around here.”  
“I think that’s Ray,” Frank responds snidely.  
Mikey laughs. “Yeah, probably. But seriously. You’ve been avoiding him for days now.”  
“He did leave without telling us where he was,” Frank reminds him. “And he’s lied to us. And he let us freak out and think he was captured. It’s only because he needs our help that he is coming back, you know.”  
“I don’t think that’s quite true,” Mikey sighs. “I don’t know. Gerard’s just always been independent. He hates relying on people. I told you how he hates growing close to people. He thought he was protecting us.”  
“We don’t need protection,” Frank snaps. “You and I, he just sees us as weak.”  
Mikey looks at him levelly. “He doesn’t. I know that. Otherwise, why is he asking us for help?”  
Mikey does have a point there, Frank has to admit. “I don’t know,” Frank sighs. “I just don’t know what to do.”  
“I mean, it’s your choice, obviously. I’m just asking for you to give him a chance.”  
“Whatever. We have a mission to do,” Frank moves to slam the door but Mikey catches him.   
“Just try, okay?” Mikey asks before Frank succeeds in shutting the door. 

~&~&~&~&~

The black fabric is silky and soft. Frank can’t stop playing with it, smoothing it down. It’s been so long since he’s worn something this nice, though admittedly, he used to hate wearing suits. Now, he almost misses them. Frank stifles the urge to laugh, focusing on his pale reflection instead, smoothing down his hair. He’s done his makeup already, emphasizing the sweep of his cheekbones and eyes, rogue brushed over his cheeks, a tint of rose bringing out the color of his lips. He applied touches of black powder to line his eyes, hints of gold and copper flecked upon his brows. Frank has to admit it looks pretty cool, his eyes appearing greener than he’s ever seen him. 

“You look good.”

Frank turns around from where he’s been staring at the mirror, fiddling with his blue tie. Gerard is leaning against the door, his own tie undone and hanging around his neck. He’s dressed in his own black suit, the front of it unbuttoned, an easy smile on his face as he watches Frank. Flawless dark eyeliner lines his eyes, hints of red and purple eyeshadow bringing out his eyes. He’s wearing mascara too, and lipstick, Frank realizes with a dizzying feeling as he looks up at Gerard, his heart beating rapidly as he does so. Gerard looks good, _really_ good. A blush creeps over Frank’s cheeks as he looks down, trying to will the butterflies to settle down in his stomach. He’s just nervous about the mission, nothing else. Just the mission. 

To distract himself, Frank wordlessly takes the tie from Gerard, looping it over his own neck and tying it. He can smell the fragrance of Gerard’s cologne as he hands the tie back to Gerard. Before he can move away, Gerard catches his wrist, forcing Frank to look at him.   
“I’m sorry,” Gerard tries again. “Please, can we not fight?”  
Frank gazes up at him, his heart beating rapidly, so fast that he’s surprised Gerard doesn’t seem to notice. Mikey’s words echo in his ear. _Give him a chance._ But Frank can’t bring himself to, instead pulling away from Gerard.   
“Tell me next time before you decide to go away then,” Frank replies as he picks up his suit jacket, slinging it over his shoulder. He brushes roughly past Gerard, hearing a sigh from behind him as he shuts the door.


	61. Defiant To The End, We Hear The Call

#### Gerard

“Will you two be okay?” Ray asks.   
He hears Frank respond from the other side of the room. “It’ll be fine.”  
“We can always trade places. It’s not too late if you want to.”  
“It’s okay.”  
“You certain?” Gerard can’t see Ray’s face but he knows the sympathetic glance he’s giving to Frank.   
“I said I’m fine!” Frank takes a deep breath. “Sorry, man. I’m just nervous.”  
“You sure—”  
“Yep. C’mon. Mikey’s waiting.”  
Gerard moves away from the door as Frank and Ray come out.  
“You two look all grown up,” Ray whistles. “I feel like I should be taking photos.”  
Gerard rolls his eyes at that, feeling his face heat up at the words.   
“Let’s just get this over with,” Frank says to the ground. He’s still refusing to meet Gerard’s eyes. 

He’s never been in a limousine before. Gerard knows it’s technically not even supposed to be theirs. Yesterday, he convinced the dealer to lend it to him, just a simple trick of the mind. But it is a convincing disguise. No one questioned people pulling up in a limo to a fancy party. 

Gerard gets in first, his fingers brushing over the smooth countertop as he settles in the back on one of the long couches. Frank follows him, sitting down nearer to the door. Maybe unconsciously, his fingers are fiddling with the sleeve of his suit like he always does when he’s nervous. Gerard wants to reach over and pull him close, but he doesn’t. 

Ray’s voice crackles over the intercom. “Buckle up,” he says. “It’s gonna be a long ride.”

The entire car ride, Gerard can hardly sit still. He plays with his white gloves, stroking the soft fabric. In his mind, he turns the plan over and over again. To give himself something to do, he checks and double checks their supplies, unpacking it and repacking it. Frank keeps his hands tucked in his lap, his gaze fixed out the window through the car ride. He stays silent, only responding when Gerard or Mikey ask him something. Gerard’s gaze strays over to Frank, unconsciously looking him up and down. 

He lied earlier. Frank doesn’t look good. He looks fucking gorgeous. So much so that Gerard has to force himself to tear his eyes away. The touches of makeup really bring out the green of his eyes, hints of gold reflected in the irises. 

As they draw near to their destination, Mikey hands them two masks. It’s dark out now as Gerard glances out the window, straightening his tie and smoothing down his hair. Almost time to get moving. 

Gerard examines his mask before putting it on. His mask is black, silver gems lining the eyes, traces of silver glitter sparkling over the cold porcelain, little plumes of black feathers curling over the top. He risks a glance over at Frank’s, his mouth falling open in surprise. Frank’s is black on one side, fading into gold on the other. Silver gems glint over the eyes, the gold metal carved with swirls. The gold glints of Frank’s reflect in the hazel irises, the edges of his mask patterned. 

The car jolts to a stop, Gerard having to stop himself from being thrown forward. He glances around, seeing the bright lights shining through the windows. Ray gives them a glance from under his broad-rimmed hat. He reaches over a gloved hand, unlocking the door.   
“Go get ‘em,” he says. 

Gerard steps out first, into the cold night air. He buttons his suit jacket up, crossing to the other side of the limousine, holding the door open for Frank.  
“I can get it,” Frank hisses at him as he climbs out, brushing past Gerard.   
“Never said you couldn’t,” Gerard mutters under his breath as he hurries after Frank.

Gerard can practically feel Frank trembling with nervous energy as they walk toward the door. He reaches over, looping his arm with Frank’s. Frank flinches at the touch but Gerard pulls him closer.   
“Act it,” Gerard mutters under his breath, loud enough so Frank can hear. “We need to look the part.”  
Frank nods, his hand gripping Gerard’s as Gerard steers them toward the door. Gerard can feel Frank’s heart beating, quick and fast against his skin as he wraps his arm around Frank’s shoulders instead. 

“Hello, gentlemen,” the person at the door says. “Names?”  
“Iero,” Gerard responds smoothly. The person looks down checking something off on a clipboard. Glancing down, Gerard can see the prototype clipped to the top. With a sigh of relief, he smiles, seeing how it’s not going off. It worked. Ray and Mikey did it.  
“Enjoy your night.”  
Gerard smiles in response, pulling the grand doors open as they step inside. 

“Why’d you use my last name?” Frank asks in his ear as Gerard steers them into the hall.   
“Couldn’t use mine. My mother would’ve seen. It’s too obvious,” Gerard responds. They follow the crowd, blending in with the other people, dressed similarly to the way they are. The entire corridor is a sea of silky dresses and suits and glittering masks. 

Deep burgundy and purple fill the hall, accents of gold and silver here and there. The tables are covered in fine white cloth, gleaming gold in the candlelight. Servants bustle to and fro, holding trays of sparkling champagne. Gerard snags two glasses, passing one to Frank before taking a sip of his own, the light bitter tang flowing over his tongue. Frank grimaces at his, but he drains his glass quickly. 

As they circumnavigate the room, Gerard glances at Frank from under his mask, seeing Frank staring straight ahead. The music is loud, the dulcet sound of violins and cellos echoing through the grand hall. He doesn’t catch any sight of his mother or anyone else he recognizes, even as he scans the eternity of the crowds. 

At last, the two of them stand near the side, watching as people dance, laughing, having a good time. Beside him, Frank sips another glass of champagne, Gerard eyeing him carefully. What number glass is this? At least number three. He should probably stop Frank soon. Gerard glances at the clock. 6:00 pm. The actual events shouldn’t start for a while. 

“Dance with me,” Gerard murmurs, pressing one gloved hand to the small of Frank’s back.  
Frank jumps at his touch, moving a step away. He sets his glass on a nearby table, turning to face Gerard quizzically.   
“We need to blend in,” Gerard whispers. “Come on.” Without another word, he takes Frank’s hand, pulling Frank with him out onto the floor. Frank doesn’t resist, but he doesn’t exactly go willingly either. 

Gerard turns around, placing one hand on Frank’s waist, firmly holding Frank’s other hand in his. Frank glares up at him from under his mask, his eyes flitting away so he doesn’t have to look at Gerard. He can feel the warmth radiating off of Frank, forcing himself to resist the urge to hold Frank in his arms and never let go. 

“You really do look beautiful,” Gerard murmurs as they sway back and forth.  
Frank shoots him a glance through half-lidded eyes as Gerard spins him. “How much longer?” he asks as Gerard reclapses his hand, his other hand resting on Gerard’s shoulder.   
“We’re almost there,” Mikey responds in his ear. There’s the sound of something shattering before Mikey grunts. “Give us a few more minutes.”

After a few songs, Frank seems to have forgotten about their fight as the two of them sway back and forth. Gerard notes the brightness in Frank’s eyes as he spins Frank again, his hand resting on Frank’s waist. He can’t help but blush as Frank reaches his hand up, brushing his knuckles gently against Gerard’s cheek, Frank grinning as he does so.  
“Are you drunk?” Gerard murmurs in Frank’s ear.   
“Are you?” Frank snips back before pausing. “Yeah, maybe. A bit.”  
Gerard sighs. “Are you okay? Should I get Ray to take you out?”  
“I’ll be fine. Just needed to calm my nerves,” Frank insists.   
“We’re in,” Ray says. “It’s show time.”  
“Frank—”  
“Come on. The song’s ending.”

Everyone around them is giving their dancing partner a quick peck on the lips. Gerard glances down at Frank, seeing Frank looking back up at him. Gerard longs to kiss him. But he doesn’t. He glances away, but Frank rises onto his tiptoes, pressing his lips softly to Gerard’s cheek.   
“All an act,” he whispers softly, letting go of Gerard’s hand.   
“Let’s go,” Gerard says. “Time to get this party started.”


	62. This Planet’s Ours To Defend

#### Gerard

Gerard’s fingers close around the cold handle of his gun as he and Frank slip away from the main hall and the crowds. A group of guards is at the other end of the corridor, shouting and grinning, evidently drunk. Gerard watches them warily as they near. He loops his arm over Frank’s shoulder, leaning in close, laughing as if Frank has said something. As soon as they’re in the clear, Gerard straightens, tugging Frank down another corridor. 

The music fades away as they weave through the halls. He catches sight of his reflection in the polished mirror as they run by. It’s darker here, more dimly lit. Heavy tan drapes flutter at the windows, Gerard catching sight of the lights of the city outside. He glances at the smooth walls, large oil portraits lining the corridor, frames ornately carved. They pass one of a young boy with dark hair and bright green eyes, holding a mirror in his outstretched hand. The boy seems to smile, the eerily realistic eyes seemingly following Gerard as they run. 

At last, they skid to a stop in front of a giant window.   
“Shit,” Gerard mutters. He presses his hands against the cold glass panes, feeling the rush of wind from outside. Turning on his heel, he races back down the hallways, scanning the walls. But there’s no door, nothing. He’s certain he hasn’t missed anything. 

“What are we looking for?” Frank calls after him.  
Gerard glances up and down the hall again. “It should be here,” he mutters. “A door of some sort. It should take us away from the front of the house into the laboratory part.”  
“You certain it was here?”  
“Positive.” Gerard runs his hand along the wall. 

“Mikey? Ray?” Frank asks, turning away from Gerard. “Where are you?”  
“We’re in the control center,” Ray responds. “We have a bird’s eye view of you guys.”  
“We can see you,” Mikey responds in his ear. “On the screen. You’re right next to the door?”  
“But there’s nothing here!” Gerard yells, frustrated.   
“Really?” Ray asks. “It’s in front of you, just to the left a little bit.”  
“I’m staring right at it,” Gerard responds. “There’s no door.”  
“He’s not crazy,” Frank puts in helpfully.   
“Weird,” Mikey mutters. “I’ll try to see if—” a high pitched ringing sounds in his ear, forcing Gerard to rip the comm out of his ear, seeing Frank do the same.

“What the hell?” Gerard mutters. He puts his back in, thankful the sound has stopped. “Mikey?”  
“We’re still here,” Ray responds. “What happened?”  
“I think our frequency got interrupted,” Mikey says.   
“Seems to be,” Gerard muses. “But—” the sound of voices cuts him off. In one motion, he’s grabbed Frank, pulling him down the hallway, toward the window, turning his back toward the sound of the voices, Frank sandwiched between Gerard’s body and the glass of the window. 

“Is it you?”  
It’s his mother, he’s certain of it. He’d recognize her voice anyway.   
“It can’t be,” she says.   
“Who is she talking to?” Gerard breathes in Frank’s ear.   
“I can’t see.” Frank wriggles against him, peering over Gerard’s shoulder, his breath ruffling Gerard’s hair. “There’s no one. No one’s in the hallway, Gee.”  
“What?” Gerard glances over his shoulder. Frank’s right, there is no one in the hallway. “How—”  
“My sons,” his mother says, cutting Gerard off abruptly. He presses himself against Frank again, hearing a muffled grunt from Frank, as they hide in the shadows. 

There’s the sound of high heels clicking on a tile floor, then a rush of air. A shadow falls across the hallway as his mother steps out from what appears to be thin air, walking down the hall. She glances over at where the two of them are hiding, Gerard’s heart racing in his chest as she does so. 

Gerard knows she can’t recognize him from that far away. But if she comes this way, she surely will. His hand clenches Frank’s hand so tightly it must have hurt.   
“What do we do?” Frank whispers, his breath warm against Gerard’s neck.   
“Is she coming this way?”  
“Maybe? No. Wait, I think she’s calling the guards.”  
“Shit.” Gerard runs his hand through his hair. “They’re gonna get us out of here. Our cover’s about to be blown.”  
“Try to get out?” Ray asks.   
“Can’t,” Gerard mutters.   
“Should we get out?” Frank asks. “We might be able to.”  
Gerard grinds his teeth in frustration. “No, this is our only shot.” He glances over at Frank. “I have an idea. So the guards leave us alone. You’re gonna hate me for it though.”  
“What?” Frank blinks at him, but Gerard is already moving. 

He reaches over, fingers brushing under Frank’s chin tilting his face up, not waiting to see his reaction before him in and kissing him. Frank flinches before he’s kissing back eagerly. 

Gerard moves them backward, Frank pressing into his touch, Frank’s fingers gripping the lapel of Gerard’s suit. He has Frank pinned against the wall, one hand on the wall, the other hand curled around the back of Frank’s head, pulling him close. He’s wanted to do this for the entire night, ever since he saw Frank in the apartment, ever since he saw how beautiful Frank looked. The anxiety and pent up frustration dissolves as he kisses Frank, letting Frank be the only thing that matters.

He hears the crackle of the radio and the sound of footsteps. Two of them it sounds like. Guards, here to call them away probably. The footsteps stop suddenly, probably as the guards stare at Gerard and Frank. But they don’t seem to be moving away anytime soon. 

Gerard’s hand slides up the front of Frank’s shirt, his fingers brushing against the warm skin. Frank lets out a noise of surprise, between a gasp and a yelp as Gerard does so. But he doesn’t push Gerard away, instead fumbling for the buttons on Gerard’s shirt, unbuttoning the top few. 

Gerard hears the footsteps again, tensing. But they’re fading away. He hears one of the guards make a faint noise of disgust, but none of them want to stare for long as they leave the corridor, leaving him and Frank alone. 

Frank surreptitiously wipes his mouth with the back of his hand as Gerard steps away. His face is flushed and he’s breathing hard. Gerard moves away, rebuttoning the buttons of his shirt, seeing Frank do the same. 

There’s a trace of glitter on Frank’s cheekbone and Gerard has to suppress the urge to brush it away. He busies himself with straightening out his suit, pulling himself to be somewhat presentable again. 

“Well,” Frank rasps, blinking for a moment. He clears his throat, looking away, his face still bright red. “What now?”  
“Mikey?” Gerard asks.   
There’s the sound of a squeak and muffled laughter before Mikey, responds in a somewhat muffled voice, “uhh, find the door.”  
“Good to know,” Frank says.   
“Ray, shut up! Ew! Stop saying that! No, I don’t want to think about that—” There’s a clatter as if Mikey just threw something.   
“You’re unmuted,” Gerard says loudly, knowing his own face must be bright red. There’s only silence after that, so Gerard assumes Mikey muted the channel. He rolls his eyes, following Frank down the hallway, past the portrait of the boy. 

“Wait,” Gerard calls. He takes a step toward the painting. It really is beautiful, an oil painting, each detail meticulously done, each crest and roll of the wave painted in muted grays and blues, the sand detailed and defined. Even the contours and lineaments of the boy’s face seem so realistic, enough that Gerard almost wonders, for a moment, if there actually is a boy standing there. The strangest part is the eyes, the green eyes that stare back at him mockingly, mirror outstretched. _Take it,_ the boy seems to say. _Take it._

He reaches his hand out, pressing lightly on it. To his surprise, it moves, disappearing backward with a quiet rush of air, revealing an empty, dark space. Gerard sticks his hand out cautiously, expecting alarms to go off, but there are none. In the darkness, he sees a thousand blue and red lights flash briefly, before they go dim again. A chill runs down his spine. This is it. The Prototypes. They’re here.

“Wow,” Frank says, taking one of the homemade bombs from Gerard. He doesn’t even look up at Gerard as he brushes past Gerard into the darkness. “Let’s blow this shit up.”


	63. Dying  In The Process

#### Frank

“Toss me one more!” Frank shouts. Gerard throws him another small package from across the room. Frank hears a click and a beep as he presses it to the wall, twisting the dial so the green light is on. 

It’s sweltering hot in the room, so Frank has already stripped off his suit jacket, tie, and mask, rolling up the sleeves of his white collared shirt as high as they will go. He pauses for a moment, brushing his sweaty hair out of his eyes as he grabs the next bomb. The packaging crinkles as he rips it open, using his teeth to pry the plastic off, slamming it onto the wall. 

“How much longer?” Ray asks in his ear.   
“Give us a few minutes,” Gerard pants from where he’s trying to pry the boxes open. “Frank, give me a hand.”  
Frank drops the packaging on the ground, fumbling his way over to where Gerard is kneeling next to the last box. Most of the others weren’t padlocked shut; it’s just this one. Frank drops to his knees next to Gerard, shouldering Gerard over as he feels his way over the metal lid of the box. He hisses in pain, withdrawing his hand so quickly he almost elbows Gerard in the face. It’s hot to the touch, burning even, pain prickling through his palms. So brute force isn’t going to work. Time to try powers instead. 

Frank holds his hands out, letting the purple energy spark on them. It illuminates the smooth cover of the box, the triangles carved on top, but it’s not enough.   
“Is there a light?” Frank asks. “I need to see what I’m doing.”  
“Yeah, give me a sec,” Gerard answers. Frank hears a muffled thud and a few curses before a flashlight clicks on, illuminating Gerard’s sweaty face. “Here.”  
“Thanks.” Frank squeezes past him, holding his hands over the padlock and closing his eyes. He tries to focus on the task at hand, pushing all thoughts to the back of his mind. Especially thoughts of the other person in the room with him. The other person pressed up against him, breathing against Frank’s back.

Fuck. Gerard kissed him. Frank had kissed him back. _Not like it was the first time,_ Frank scolds himself. They’ve done much more than just kiss. Memories flash in his mind, moonlight, tangled in white sheets, Gerard, just Gerard and him. _You’re acting so stupid._ Still, he has to admit how much he misses it. It’s hard work, being mad at Gerard. Frank keeps forgetting why he even is in the first place. 

Sometimes, when they’re working side by side like this, it’s too easy to fall back into the rhythm of things. Too easy for him to rest his head on Gerard’s shoulder or take Gerard’s hand. Too easy for his gaze to travel to Gerard’s lips and think about kissing Gerard again. He wants to, that’s for sure. 

Frank shakes his head, pushing his energy into his powers. He imagines his emotions fueling them, anger at Gerard, fear of the guards, determination to succeed. All the longing, the memory of Gerard kissing him just now. Memories of being trapped in the Facility, his parents, all of it. Frank channels it into his powers, crying out as blood drips down the side of his face, onto his white shirt. The padlock jerks wildly to the side, glowing purple before it clatters to the ground, the lid springing open. 

Wordlessly, Gerard grabs the rest of the bombs, the packaging crinkling as he sets the rest of them with a soft click, the dials glowing green. He drops them into the box, the green glow illuminating the box. Gerard’s eyes meeting Frank’s, before Gerard grabs his hand, yanking him toward the door. 

“Sixty!” Mikey yells. “You guys out?”  
“Almost,” Frank pants as he crashes into Gerard. “What?”  
“Shit,” Gerard mutters.   
“Gerard?” Mikey yells. “What?”  
“Get out of there!” Ray screams.   
“Trying!” Gerard’s voice rises in panic. “The door’s locked. We’re trapped.”  
“It has to be opened from the other side,” Ray yells. “I’m going to get you.”  
“Don’t!” Frank calls, but Ray’s line cuts out.   
“You’re going to be okay,” Mikey says over and over again. “It’s fine.”

Frank glances around the dark room, the only lights from the green dials turning orange. Thirty.   
“I can shield us,” he mutters, his fingers sparking, then going dark. “Shit. Or at least try to. I’m drained from earlier though. I don’t know if I can.”  
Gerard nods, though he doesn’t seem as concerned as Frank would’ve thought. Frank himself is strangely calm too. He feels Gerard’s hand brushing against his, before Gerard’s forehead presses against his, Gerard’s breath warm on his face.

“This wouldn’t be the worst way to go, would it?” Gerard whispers.  
Frank merely shakes his head, closing his eyes as the dials turn red. Ten.   
“Frank, if this really is the end, I just have to know,” Gerard breathes against his hair.   
“What?” Frank asks. Is this really going to be the last thing he sees? Gerard holding him as the two of them are trapped in the dark room, surrounded by the glowing red dials of twenty explosives. His hand grips Gerard’s tightly, glad that he won’t be alone.   
“Do you—”

He never gets to hear the rest of the sentence. 

Frank falls backward as the wall behind him gives way. He lands hard on the ground, gasping as Gerard crashes on top of him, blinking as light floods around him. Ray stands over them triumphantly. 

“Oh my god,” Gerard wheezes. “Oh my god.”  
“Holy shit,” Frank gasps at the same time as Mikey’s frantic voice crackles over his earpiece. 

“It was linked.”  
“What’s linked?” Frank asks, pushing himself up.   
“All the rooms,” Mikey answers, surprisingly calm. “Of course they were. Security. If one went down, all the papers did too. So the thieves would be caught. Smart. We should have known.”  
“Mikey—”  
“I’m going to close it off,” Mikey responds in his ear. Frank hears the slamming of a door. “I’ll keep everyone else safe. Just promise me—”

Then Frank is racing down the corridor, through the main hall and up the marble stairs at the back, Gerard and Ray hard on his heels, shoving past people as they run by, not caring anymore. He knows they all can see him, he knows that they can tell who he is, but Frank is past caring at this point. All he knows is he needs to get to Mikey, he needs to get there because he doesn’t know what he will do if he doesn’t. 

Frank yanks the door to the control room open, staring into the darkness. He hesitates to step inside for a split second.   
“Mikey?” he calls. There’s no response, the room seemingly empty. The door suddenly burns hot in Frank’s hand, causing him to yelp and let go. He watches in horror as the door swings shut.  
“Mikey!” Gerard yells, moving toward the door just as the room lights up in a glow of red and orange.   
“No!” Frank screams at the same time as he tackles Gerard, the two of them tumbling backward down the stairs. The explosion rockets through the room above, knocking every clear thought from his mind.


	64. Covered In Ash, Covered In Glass

#### Gerard

Muted screams cut through the air as Gerard blinks, the world swimming around him in a haze of gray. Bits and pieces begin to come clear to him as he squeezes his eyes shut before opening them again. The grand hall is before him, thrown into tatters, deep burgundy and purple drapes ripped, dust falling from the gaping hole in the ceiling, the cold night air rushing in. Champagne glasses lie on the dance floor, crushed to pieces, discarded masks and torn pieces of fabric littered among them. But the hall remains standing, the people unscathed as they fight their way to the exit in throngs. Mikey did it—Mikey— 

_Mikey._

The name tears through the haze in Gerard’s mind as he pushes himself up. Memories rush into his mind, Mikey telling them that he was going to close off the explosion. Frank tackling him, stopping him from getting to Mikey. Gerard grits his teeth as he tries to move, pain glancing through every nerve in his body. Something warm and wet runs down the side of his face as Gerard crawls to his knees, his head screaming with pain as he does so. The marble beneath him is wet with blood, cracked, rubble raining down around them. His fingers come away, scarlet and slippery with blood. But somehow he manages to push himself to his feet, stumbling toward the door. 

Gerard falls as he climbs up the stairs, gripping the metal railing, his fingers wet with blood. He half crawls up the stairs, his hands sliding through the thick layer of gray dust as he reaches for the handle.

Before he can reach it, arms wrap around his shoulders, tackling him to the ground. Gerard still fights as much as he can.   
“I have to get to him,” he screams. “I have to—I—”  
“You can’t.” It’s Frank and Ray, holding Gerard back. If it were under different circumstances, Gerard would have been shocked that Frank is even willing to touch him. But he can’t think about anything, anything except for how he needs to get to his brother.  
“Gee—stop, Gerard, listen to me.” Frank’s pleading with him but he still fights back, not caring who he hurts. His elbow connects with Frank, who lets out a muffled grunt of pain but still doesn’t let go.   
“Stop,” Ray begs. “Gee, stop.” 

Gerard finally manages to free himself, shoving Frank away from himself as he stumbles forward. He’s disoriented, falling to the ground as he struggles to get up again. He doesn’t care though. All he needs to do is get in there. He needs to reach his brother. 

He slams into a wall of purple energy. Whirling around, he sees Frank standing there, a nasty laceration across his forehead, bruises littering his face, blood dripping down his face onto his shirt. His hands are by his side, clenched in fists. The shield must be taking a lot of energy out of him, since his whole body is shaking, blood leaking from his nose and ears.   
“I can’t let you,” Frank says, his voice breaking. “You’ll die.”  
“Please,” Gerard pleads. “I need to save him. He’s my little brother.”  
“I can’t—” Frank begs. “Gee, please, I—”   
Anger flashes through Gerard, hot and furious. “It’s your fault I couldn’t get to him!” Gerard snaps. “Let me at least do this!”  
Frank recoils as if he’s been slapped. “Gerard—”  
He doesn’t even realize it until he’s drawn his powers, throwing them like a knife at Frank. 

Frank crumples to his knees, the shield flickering as it vanishes. His face goes pale, blood trickling out of his nose and ears as he collapses, his body going limp, Ray catching him before he hits the ground. Gerard can’t even spare a glance back at him, guilt crashing through him as he yanks the door open and charges into the smoke and flames. 

He covers his nose and mouth as smoke billows out from the room in gray columns. Coughing weakly, he stumbles, then falls. It’s cooler near the floor, easier to breathe too. His hands and knees scrape on the rough concrete and rubble, the burning bits of plastic embedding themselves in his palms. Still, he keeps going, his eyes watering so much he can barely see, seeing the flickering of fire in the distance, the smell of burnt plastic filling his senses. 

Gerard crawls forward, his head swimming from the smoke filling his senses, his lungs aching and throat raw as he coughs again. He runs his hand against the surface of a desk, hissing as it burns him, sharp pain shooting through his already ruined palms.   
“Mikey?” he calls. “Mikey!”   
“Gerard! Gerard!” He can hear his own name being called, by Frank and Ray.   
“Ray, let me go, goddamnit!”  
“Ow, Frank, stop it. I’m not fucking letting all three of you die! Officer? Over here! There are two people in there!” 

A hand grabs his arm, making Gerard almost scream.  
“Mikey?” Gerard asks, his voice hoarse.   
“Gerard?” The voice is broken and rough, but unmistakably Mikey’s. Gerard lets out a cry of relief, tears welling up in his eyes.   
“Are you okay? Where are you?”  
“I’m stuck,” Mikey coughs. “Behind the router.”

The burning hunk of plastic seems to be the router. Gerard winces as he grabs hold of it, the plastic soft beneath his hands, burning his skin. He can’t even feel it anymore as he pulls it away, the thing coming away with a harsh scraping noise. Inch by inch, he shuffles backward, pulling it with him, coughing as he inhales more smoke into his lungs. 

At last, it comes free, Gerard crawling forward, tugging Mikey into his arms. Mikey seems to be mostly unharmed, a long gash running across his face, his hair matted with blood. But he’s alive and that is all that matters to Gerard.  
“Mikey,” Gerard breathes. “Mikey, oh my god, Mikey.”  
“Gee, I did it,” Mikey says, patting Gerard’s cheek with a clumsy hand. “I really did it.”  
“You did,” Gerard answers, gazing down at Mikey, before he passes out.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Happy New Year! Wishing all of you a safe and amazing 2021!


	65. Through Fortune And Fame, We Fall

#### Frank

Mikey is going to be okay. The news eases the weight of his guilt off of his chest. Frank stumbles backwards, leaning against the wall for support as his body goes weak with relief. Somehow, Mikey had closed off the rest of the house from the explosion, trapping himself and the prototypes in. Managing to wedge himself behind the desk and cabinets, he escapes the explosion relatively unscathed, save for a minor concussion, not unlike the one that Frank had himself, some nasty bruises and cuts, bruised ribs, and some smoke inhalation. But Mikey is going to be okay. But Gerard, he is not so sure about.

They’ve been sitting in the waiting room of the hospital for a few hours, after the three of them were checked over and pronounced okay enough to be released. As they waited for Mikey’s release, they couldn’t bring themselves to go home. So Frank showered here instead, gratefully taking the spare change of clothes. The blood matted in his hair and under his fingernails refreshed, running down in scarlet lines across his skin, painting lines down his arms. Frank looked at himself in the mirror afterwards, at the cuts and bruises lining his body, ugly scars marring his skin. A feeling of disgust came over him as he turned away, pulling on his shirt. 

As he headed back to the waiting room, he glanced around anxiously. He would be worried about the doctors or other people calling the guards on them, but Gerard insisted he had taken care of all of it.

Speaking of Gerard, Frank watches Gerard out of the corner of his eye. Gerard’s still not speaking to him, apparently content to not speak to anyone. He mumbles a few words to Ray every so often, but other than that, he retains his silence, watching Mikey the entire time. Whenever Frank goes over there to ask him anything, Gerard seems to turn a deaf ear.

He feels so guilty for stopping Gerard, but what was he supposed to do? Let him run into a burning room to save his younger brother? Was there any right answer? Frank made a decision in that moment, right as the door swung shut. He had chosen Gerard. And that decision would have plagued him forever if Mikey had died. Gerard doesn’t seem content with Frank’s decision though. 

Gerard at least obliges to let himself get taken care of. His hands are ruined, shards of plastic embedded in the skin, burns lining his palms. He also has a mild concussion, probably from Frank tackling him down a flight of stairs. But mostly, Frank thinks it’s just shock. Shock and horror. Some disappointment too. The fact that he wasn’t able to protect Mikey that Mikey almost died was almost too much for Gerard. 

Frank wants to go over and comfort Gerard, but he’s not sure how welcome he will be. Gerard did yell at him; it really was Frank’s fault that they didn’t get to Mikey sooner. And he was pissed at Gerard this whole time which didn’t really impact anything but Frank is pretty certain something went wrong because of it. They probably could have been more careful if he and Gerard hadn’t been fighting. 

The fight itself seems so long ago. Before the explosion, with Mikey almost dying. Before Gerard kissed him in the hallway. Almost as if it were another lifetime ago. Now, how the tables have turned, Gerard is probably pissed at Frank now. Frank almost wants to laugh at the sheer irony but it would be out of place. 

Still, he moves, crossing the room. Ray shoots him a worried glance, which Frank promptly ignores. He stands before Gerard, twisting the sleeve of his sweatshirt in his hand 

“Gerard, I’m sorry—”

Before he can even get the words out, Gerard is kissing him, pushing him backwards. Frank doesn’t even resist, wrapping his arms around Gerard’s shoulders, kissing him back furiously. His hands tangle in the soft strands of Gerard’s black hair, still matted with blood since Gerard hasn’t been able to leave the waiting room to shower. Oh, how much he has missed this, how much he’s missed Gerard. Maybe it’s partially the shock of still being alive, knowing how close they were to death. But Gerard feels so familiar, feels so much like home against him. 

He’s panting hard as Gerard finally pulls away. It’s just the two of them in the waiting room, Ray must have taken the moment to step out.   
“I’m sorry,” Gerard starts. “Frank, I’m so, so sorry. I—”  
“It’s okay,” Frank reassures him. “I’m okay.”  
Gerard shakes his head. “It’s not. I could have killed you. I almost did.”  
“You needed to save your brother,” Frank says. “It’s okay—”  
“I wish you would stop saying that,” Gerard sighs. “Because it’s not. Frank, I almost killed you. I wasn’t thinking right. I was panicking and you were in the way and I just—I lashed out. And it’s no excuse, I know. I’m so sorry. I know how you hate me being in your head. It was really wrong of me to do that.” Seeing Gerard this vulnerable unsettles Frank. He’s not used to this, Gerard showing all of his emotions and thoughts for him to see. He doesn’t quite know how to respond.   
“But it’s my fault—”  
“Don’t you dare,” Gerard says fiercely. Frank is almost taken aback, but it almost feels more familiar, to see Gerard this way. “Don’t you dare say that. You were trying to save my life. None of this is your fault. I was an idiot. I wasn’t thinking and lashed out at you. I was wrong.”  
“It was,” Frank counters. “It’s my fault. We were fighting and I should have forgiven you. I just—” This is what he’s been afraid of all this time. Gerard knows, obviously, being a mind reader and all. But he’s still terrified of his reaction. It really was all his fault. If he hadn’t been so cowardly, if he hadn’t hesitated, Mikey would be okay.   
“That’s not your fault,” Gerard whispers, coming closer to him. “It’s not. None of it is.”   
“I’m sorry. For everything.”  
“I’m sorry too.”   
“Can you forgive me?”  
“Of course I can. Can you forgive me?” Gerard echoes, brushing Frank’s hair from his face. “I don’t deserve it, I know.” Before Frank can protest, Gerard is kissing him again, silencing whatever arguments he had. Frank gives in, closing his eyes.


	66. These Bright Lights Have Always Blinded Me

#### Gerard

Mikey is crouched in the dark hallway as Gerard nears him. Hunched over, his back turned, hands clutching something.   
“Mikey?” Gerard asks. “What are you doing out of bed? You shouldn’t be out here.”  
Mikey doesn’t respond, but lets out a long, mournful sigh.   
“Mikey? Gerard asks again. “Are you okay?”

Mikey turns around slowly, his eyes dark. With a start, Gerard realizes that the whites of his eyes are gone, leaving just darkness.   
“Don’t you see?” Mikey asks. “You can’t save me, you never were able to.”  
“No,” Gerard takes a step forward, or at least tries to. He finds that he can’t, his body frozen in place. “Mikey!”  
Mikey coughs, dark blood dribbling over his chin. “You can’t save me, Gerard. You can’t save anyone, especially not from yourself.”  
“Mikey!”  
“You’ll kill everyone you love, just you wait. First our parents, then me.” Mikey’s face twists into a crooked sneer, one that looks so out of place on his face.   
“No,” Gerard whispers.   
“Then you’ll hurt Ray too. You’ll hurt Frank. Until it’s just you left. You can’t be trusted around others, Gerard. You’re dangerous, volatile. The best thing for you is to leave.”

Wind rushes through Gerard’s hair and he looks over to see the floor has crumbled away, the dark ocean tossing far below, waves crashing onto the jagged rocks with a spray of dark sea foam.   
“You know what to do,” Mikey whispers in his ear. Gerard glances over, to see the men in dark uniforms standing behind them, guns trained on the two of them. His gaze flicks over, horror piercing him as he sees Ray kneeling in front of them, a gun pressed against his hair. Frank is beside him, fighting as he tries to get to Gerard, a white gag tied over his mouth. Frank’s gaze meets Gerard’s as Frank gives a tiny nod. _Do it._

“See?” Mikey whispers. “Without you, we live. With you, we die. It’s your choice, Gerard.”

Gerard hesitates, glancing over at the figures, his gaze locking on Frank’s, then on Mikey’s again. Then he falls.

Above him, he hears the gunshots ring out before Mikey is kneeling before him, guards surrounding him as he’s dragged away. 

“Gee! Calm down, it’s okay. You’re okay.” He fights against whoever is holding him down, thrashing wildly. He needs to get them away from Mikey, the men in the black uniforms pressing tighter and tighter around. He can see the black gloves, glistening with dark blood, his brother’s life bleeding out in front of him. Gerard struggles, lashing out, even as hands hold down his arms and legs, keeping him from moving. He needs to get to his brother, he needs to save Mikey—

He’s awake in a split second, his eyes flying wide open. Frank is crouched over him, pinning him down, Ray next to him.   
“It’s okay, Gee,” Frank murmurs. “Take a deep breath. Mikey’s okay. You’re okay. We’re all okay.”  
Gerard nods, struggling to inhale, feeling himself calm down. His face is still wet with tears as he sniffs, pulling his arm out of Frank’s grasp so he can wipe his face. Before he even knows what he’s doing, he’s pulling Frank close, wrapping his arms around the smaller boy as he lets out a shuddering breath into the shoulder of his sweatshirt.   
“You’re okay,” Frank whispers. Gerard feels him shift slightly, wrapping his arms around Gerard’s shoulders as Gerard cries. Frank strokes his hair softly, pressing a kiss to the top of Gerard’s head. “You’re okay. I’m here.”  
Out of the corner of his eye, Gerard sees Ray leaving the room silently. He finally allows himself to relax, pulling Frank even closer to himself. Gerard closes his eyes, letting Frank comfort him. 

“Are you okay?” Frank asks at last.   
Gerard nods, still not trusting himself to speak.   
“Do you want to talk about it?”  
“I couldn’t protect him,” Gerard whispers, barely audibly. “I couldn’t save him. I couldn’t save anyone.”  
“Mikey’s alright,” Frank soothes. “He’s okay, he’s asleep in the other room.”  
“I can’t let anything bad happen to Mikey,” Gerard protests. “If something does, I— He’s my little brother. I have to protect him.”  
“You did, it’s okay Gee, he’s safe.”  
“No.” Gerard shakes his head vehemently. “He will never be safe, don’t you see? Not when he’s near me.”  
Frank gazes at him, his hazel eyes turbid. “That’s not true,” he says softly. “Gerard, it’s not your fault.”  
“But it is. If we never tried to escape, if I never became this, never became Afflicted, then Mikey would have been okay.”  
“You can’t blame yourself for that,” Frank hisses. “You can’t control that.”  
Gerard stares at him helplessly. “But what if—”  
“Shut it.”   
When Gerard opens his mouth to protest again, Frank kisses him, silencing him. They end up on the floor, tangled together, Frank kneeling over Gerard, his hands gripping the collar of Gerard’s shirt. 

“What would I do without you?” Gerard whispers, almost inaudibly as he sits up, pulling Frank into his lap. “Frankie, what would I do without you?” He presses his hand against the thin fabric of Frank’s shirt, feeling Frank’s heart beating quick and fast against his palm. _Alive,_ his mind whispers. _Alive, alive, alive._  
Frank doesn’t respond, he just buries his face in Gerard’s shoulder. 

“I know what I need to do,” Gerard chokes out at last. “I’m going to keep Mikey safe.”  
“Gerard—” Frank says cautiously. “Gee, I think that you—”  
“Don’t you see?” Gerard shakes his head. “We can’t keep them safe. We’re putting them in danger, I’m putting them in danger. I can’t do this to my brother. I owe it to him to have at least somewhat of a normal life.”  
Frank doesn’t respond, just stares down Gerard.   
“My mother knows that Mikey and Ray are part of this now,” Gerard says. “They will come after them too.”  
Frank stares at him, before he nods slowly. “Then what do you suggest?” he asks, his voice broken.   
“Leave.” As soon as the word falls from Gerard’s lips, he regrets it instantly, the solution suddenly becoming crystal clear. “I go back to the Facility. Tell them that it’s over.”  
“You just want to give up?” Frank struggles away from him. “What the fuck, Gerard?”  
Gerard stares at him. “I wasn’t asking you to come.”  
“No way. No fucking way,” Frank snaps. “I’m not letting you go.”  
“What will you do?” Gerard challenges. “Try to stop me? We know what happened last time.”  
Frank flinches at his words, Gerard instantly regretting the words he said. It’s too fresh, the memory of him attacking Frank and winning.  
“They want us,” Gerard says softly, reaching over to take Frank’s face in his hands. “They won’t stop until they catch us, we know that now. We’ve destroyed the prototypes, they won’t be able to track you down, at least not as easily. But they won’t give in.”  
“How would turning yourself in help?” Frank snaps.   
“They’d leave you alone,” Gerard tells him, tears prickling in his eyes. “At least you’d be safe. You, Mikey, Ray. All three of you would be okay. Look, I’ll give you guys a head start. You get out of here, drive far away and set up someplace new. Change your names. I’ll go back and tell them it’s over. I don’t know, I’ll make something up. Maybe I went crazy and killed you. But they’ll be satisfied with me. They don’t have to have you too.”  
“Then I’ll do it,” Frank says.   
“No.” Gerard shakes his head. “No way. You’re leaving with Ray and Mikey.”  
“Mikey needs you. He needs his brother. I don’t have anyone like that. No one is here for me anymore,” Frank insists, his gaze drops, a tear rolling down his cheek, his voice cracking. “Not without you at least.”  
“You wanted a normal life,” Gerard says softly. “I know how much you wanted to be normal again. Frank, I can get that for you. You can be normal again. I know you want that. You can actually live again.”  
Frank stares at him, eyes glistening, cheeks wet with tears. “There’s no life for me without you,” he says firmly. “I don’t care about anything, as long as you’re with me. Wherever you go, I will follow, I promise, Gerard. If you go to them, I’m following you. I’m turning myself in if you do. I don’t care what you say. I’m coming with you no matter what.”

Gerard stares at him for what seems like forever, Frank holding his gaze. Finally, Gerard gives in, looking away.   
“Okay,” he says.   
“Okay what?”  
“I won’t. But we need to leave. They’re going to be coming for us.”  
Frank gives a small nod. “All of us?”  
Gerard shakes his head. “Just the two of us.” He sneaks a glance over at Frank. “If that’s okay.”  
“They won’t let us. You know what Mikey will say. He’ll stop us.”  
“Then I make sure he doesn’t.”  
“You don’t actually—” Frank shakes his head. “You’re serious.”  
Gerard nods, chewing on his lower lip. _It’s the only way._ “Yes,” he breathes. “I love him, Frank. I love him too much to see him get hurt. He’s my little brother. I have to keep him safe, even if it kills me to do so.”  
“As long as you don’t push me away. Promise me this,” Frank urges. “We’re staying together. Together until the end. Promise me.”  
Gerard meets his gaze with a steady one of his own. “I promise.”


	67. I’ll Find You When The Sun Goes Black

#### Gerard

He’s doing the right thing. Gerard tells himself that over and over again as he takes a deep breath to calm himself. He’s doing what is right, no matter how hard it is. He’s going to protect Mikey, because that’s what he needs to do. He is the older brother; it’s his job to protect Mikey, from anything that might come their way. If the guards want him and Frank, the two of them will lead them far away. Gerard will make sure they stop picking on Mikey and Ray. If they want him, they will come for him, not for anyone else he loves. He owes it to Mikey to have a decent chance at living a normal life. 

“Do you need more time?” Frank asks him softly. “We don’t have to do this now.”   
Gerard shakes his head. “I’m okay,” he says. “Are you certain I can’t convince you to stay?”  
Frank just gives him a look. “I’m going with you. That’s final.”  
Gerard holds his gaze before nodding. “I hate this.”  
“Me too.”  
“I just want to fix everything. I don’t want you to get hurt; I don’t want anyone to get hurt.”  
“We will fix everything,” Frank says. “I promise, Gee. But we are doing it together.”  
Gerard nods slowly, reaching over and taking Frank’s hand in his. “I know,” he answers. “What would I do without you?”  
“Probably something stupid,” Frank responds without any humor in his voice. “Promise me you won’t go off alone again?” There’s a hesitant quality to his voice, as if he is afraid of the answer.  
“I promise,” Gerard says. “I promise, Frankie. I won’t leave you again.”  
“Good. Let’s do this then.”  
Ray looks up as they enter. “Are you certain?” he asks. “We can find another way.”  
“There isn’t another,” Gerard answers, resigned. “Believe me, I’ve thought of everything. There just isn’t anything else if I want to keep him safe. They will keep coming after the two of you because of us. They aren’t going to stop until they have us. And I can’t have Mikey hurt, I just can’t.”  
“I hate feeling this helpless,” Ray says. “Really.”  
“I know,” Gerard sighs. “Me too. But it’s the only option. I have to keep Mikey safe.”  
“You are a good brother, you know?” Ray says.   
“I need you to take care of him for me, okay?” Gerard asks. He brushes his tears away, but they just keep coming, a never ending time. “I need you to keep him safe—my brother—I need to make sure he’s okay. Please, Ray, I know you’ve done so much already. It’s just I can’t have anything happen to Mikey, ” he sniffs, struggling to regain his composure. Frank presses closer to him, squeezing his hand gently.   
“I know,” Ray says. “I promise, okay Gerard? He’s going to be fine. I’m going to take care of him. We’re going to be okay.”

Gerard kneels next to Mikey’s sleeping form, resting his hand on his younger brother’s forehead. He used to do this, to check Mikey’s temperature when Mikey was sick. Gerard longs for the days that it was as simple as faking his mom’s signature on a form or calling sick into school so he and Mikey could spend the day together, reading comic books and eating as much ice cream as they wanted. But those days are gone now, soon they will be erased from Mikey’s mind as well. 

Memories flutter through his mind, tumbling, one after another like leaves in a storm. So many of them are familiar, ones that he himself cherishes. Mikey growing up, Mikey smiling at him. Pain pricks Gerard’s heart as he watches his younger self ruffle Mikey’s hair. In the blink of an eye, his younger self vanishes, leaving Mikey alone, the memory changing around Gerard as he erases himself. He follows Mikey walking home, a shadow in a memory as Mikey gets Gerard’s cryptic test. He sees Mikey calling the authorities, then bursting through the door, seeing Gerard crouching next to his dead parents. A tear slips down Gerard’s cheek as he pushes the memory away, removing himself from the equation. Instead, Mikey runs forward, clutching their parent’s dead bodies as the memory of Gerard fades away. Gerard sees himself through Mikey’s eyes, telling Mikey to run, to go to Ray’s. But Gerard no longer exists in the memory; instead Mikey leaves the apartment, running to Ray’s simply because he wants to, not because of the orders of an older brother he’s heeding, because he no longer has an older brother. 

Mikey’s eyes snap open, throwing Gerard out of his mind.   
“Who are you?” Mikey asks as he sits up. He looks terrified, and rightly so, not recognizing two of the three people standing beside him. It’s unnerving to see Mikey as a blank slate, his eyes wide and slightly unfocused.   
“You’re okay,” Gerard says softly, still kneeling down beside the bed. Mikey flinches away from him slightly, not very much, but noticeable, especially to Gerard. Gerard nods to himself before standing up.   
“Ray?” Mikey asks. “What’s going on? Where am I? What happened?”  
Gerard steps back, letting Ray talk to Mikey.  
“They’re friends,” Ray says smoothly. “It’s okay. You were in a car accident. These are some friends. They helped get you here and were just making sure you are okay. How do you feel?”  
Mikey winces, holding the back of his head. “Really shitty,” he responds. “My head hurts like a bitch. Why can’t I remember anything?”  
Ray hesitates. “You hit your head pretty hard. The doctors said that it might happen.”  
“Oh,” Mikey answers. “Thank you,” he says to Gerard and Frank. “For helping me.”

The finality of it all is like a punch to the face. It’s done, there’s no going back now. The end of one chapter, the beginning of another. He watches as Ray hands Mikey a cup of water, getting him more comfortable. Frank pulls him closer, comforting Gerard as he begins to shake.  
“Goodbye,” Gerard says, his voice breaking. “Goodbye Mikey. Good luck.” _I love you._ The last three words he leaves unsaid.

It’s too much all of a sudden, so Gerard turns and leaves, casting one last look at his brother before he goes. _Goodbye._

“You okay?” Frank exits the room after him. Gerard holds him tightly, unable to look over at the closed door to the room Mikey is in.   
“I miss him,” Gerard says in a small voice. “I miss him already. But it’s for the best. He’ll be happier this way. Safer too. God. I can’t believe he’s gone. I can’t believe everything is over now.”  
“It’s going to be okay,” Frank tells him. “Mikey’s going to be okay, we’re going to be okay.”  
“I don’t know what I’d do without you,” Gerard sighs.   
“I’m never leaving,” Frank reassures him. “I promise that I’ll always be here.”  
And Gerard believes him.


	68. I’ll Leave You A Phantom

####  Frank 

It’s hard to say goodbye. There’s a heaviness in the air, a solemness as Frank hefts the heavy backpack over his shoulder, the cans clinking inside. He glances around the apartment one last time, the place that he had grown to call home. It seems so familiar; Frank just wants to kick off his shoes and throw himself back into the daily routine of life. But it’s no longer home to him and Gerard.

“Are you going to be okay?” Ray asks again. “Is that everything you need?”  
“We’ll be fine,” Frank reassures him. “Thank you so much.”  
Ray shakes his head. “Don’t thank me,” he says. “I should be thanking you. You’re doing this for Mikey and me.”  
“You gave us a safe place for so long,” Frank reasons. “We should thank you.   
“I guess we’ll both have to thank each other,” Ray laughs, but the smile vanishes from his face quickly. “This isn’t goodbye.”  
“No, it’s not,” Frank says. “We’ll see each other again. I promise.”  
Ray pulls him into a tight hug. “Stay safe, okay?”  
“You too.” Frank shoulders the bag again.   
“Keep in touch. Or I’ll hunt you down myself.” Empty words, empty promises. Frank knows that some are just unattainable. But he nods, smiling in reassurance.   
“Of course,” he answers.  
“Take care of yourself,” Ray says.   
“You too,” Frank responds. “And of Mikey.”  
“Keep an eye on Gerard, okay?” Ray asks. “I’m worried about him.”  
“Me too,” Frank sighs. “He’s so afraid right now. I want to help him, but I don’t know if I can.”  
“If anyone can, it’s you,” Ray says. “He really loves you, Frank.”  
“I really love him,” Frank answers. “I wish I could take away all of his pain.”  
“Don’t we all?” Ray sighs. “Well, be safe, okay Frankie?”  
“You got that. You too.”

“Ready?” Gerard calls from the hallway, a bag of his own slung over his shoulder.   
“Yeah,” Frank responds, heading toward the front door with one last glance around his apartment. Not his apartment anymore.   
“Good luck,” Ray says, holding the door open.   
“You too,” Gerard responds. “Take care, Ray.”  
“Take care.”

As the door shuts, there is a heaviness in Frank’s chest, a sinking feeling in his stomach. He longs to knock on the door again, throw it open to the familiarity of the apartment. He desperately wants to be at home again, but there isn’t a home, not anymore at least. So he stops himself from doing so, forcing his gaze away onto the floral pattern on the carpets. Gerard squeezes his hand, glancing over at him worriedly.   
“Ready?” he asks softly.   
Frank takes a deep breath. “Let’s go.”

He wants to turn back. But they need to keep going. So Frank holds Gerard’s hand as they make their way down the staircase, out into the driveway. Gerard unlocks the car, slipping into the front seat, the engine starting up. He glances around at the empty streets, the parked cars gleaming in the light of the street lamps, the cracks on the sidewalks where the roots of nearby trees try to poke through. 

As he leans back in the passenger seat, Frank can’t help but cast a gaze back to the apartment building as it fades into the distance, cranning until it disappears. The grimy windows and the green awning call to him, begging him to come back. So Frank turns away, closing his eyes as Gerard turns onto the highway. But even then, he can still see it in his mind. 

It’s like a flashback from the past. He and Gerard, driving on the roads as they leave the city, the buildings fading into the distance in the rearview mirror. The empty roads and the fields sprawling out before them, mountains looming in the distance. Gerard holds his hand the entire time, for Frank’s comfort or for Gerard’s own, he’s unsure. But he’s thankful for it anyway. 

They drive until night falls, and even then, until the sun comes up again. Just trying to put as much distance as they can between them and Ray and Mikey. Frank gazes out the window as the scenery flies by. The heart of the country doesn’t seem to be beating anymore, the life drained out of it. It’s like his own, heavy and empty in his chest, hanging like a dead weight. The country sleeps here, people long gone, left abandoned. It seems as if they are going to the end of the world, the car cruising down the empty highways, past the abandoned, rotten farmhouses and grain silos, sticking up like a rusty middle finger in the brown fields. Past the graffiti covered street signs and empty, boarded up rest stops, semi-trailer trucks left parked on the edges of the breakdown lanes.

For once, they don’t have anywhere to go. Ever since they got out, Gerard told Frank that there was a place to go. Gerard was always trying to find Mikey. But now, Frank knows that they don’t have a destination in mind, just away. The two of them, going to who knows where. 

Gerard seems to be unbothered by it, but as Frank sneaks a glance over at him, he can see how Gerard’s eyes are red-rimmed from crying. It’s been almost a day since they left the apartment. Gerard has barely said anything about it, but Frank can tell how much it hurts him. Gerard would rather work himself to exhaustion so he doesn’t have to think.   
“I can take over,” Frank says softly. “Get some sleep, Gee.”  
And for once, Gerard is too tired to argue with him. 

As the sun begins to set again, Frank rests his hands on the wheel, foot pressed onto the gas as the car rockets forward. He glances over at the sleeping figure of Gerard in the passenger seat, his face glowing from the light of the setting sun. Frank can’t help but smile as he turns back toward the horizon, the pink and purple illuminating the sky.   
“A new chapter,” Frank whispers to himself in the silence of the car. “An end and a beginning.”


	69. By Streetlight This Dark Night

#### Gerard

The hood of the car is still warm as he leans against it, the sun beating down on his back. There’s nothing for miles around them, just rolling plains and fields, the occasional wooden fence poking up from the overgrown grass. The road stretches on behind the, cracked gray asphalt and yellow painted lines winding for miles and miles as they disappear into the distance. A cricket chirps occasionally, a bird song echoing through the fields every so often, interrupting the silence. It really feels like they are at the end of the world at times like this, not a single soul in sight aside from the two of them.

Frank is wearing his oversized red sweatshirt, the one that Ray gave him, eyes half closed, leaning against Gerard’s chest. Gerard can tell how exhausted he is as he strokes Frank’s hair, holding him close as the wind picks up, dust sweeping across the road. Frank turns his head slightly, pressing his face against Gerard’s sweatshirt.

Above them, Gerard watches as the sky fades to orange and pink, the sun disappearing below the horizon and the trees. He can see the evening star peeking out from the darkening, velvet blue sky. Night is falling, but he still can’t bring himself to move.   
“We could go anywhere,” Gerard murmurs. “Places we’ve only dreamed of.”  
“Can we?” Frank blinks up at him.   
“Yeah,” Gerard laughs. “Anywhere, I mean it. Who’s gonna stop us? They’re hunting for us everywhere.”  
“Where would we go?”  
“Any places you want.”  
“I’d love to see the world,” Frank says. “Anywhere but home, really. Do you think we’d be safe in other countries?”  
“I don’t know,” Gerard answers. “I don’t know.”  
“We could run away into the woods and never be found again.”  
“I’d like that,” Gerard says. “Get our own little house. Have a place for people like us.”  
Frank grins at him. “As long as I’m with you, I don’t care.”  
“I love you,” Gerard whispers. “I love you so much, you know that?”  
“Don’t you ever leave me again,” Frank warns. “I’ll kill you myself if you ever leave. You don’t have to worry about them because I’ll kill you first.”  
“I’ll count on it,” Gerard says. “I’ll go to the ends of the earth for you.”  
“And to the stars beyond,” Frank murmurs.   
“And to the stars,” Gerard echoes.

They stay there, leaning against the car, in each other’s embrace until the wind picks up, blowing leaves and dust around, grit stinging Gerard’s face as the wind chills them to the bone. Gerard unlocks the car, opening the door to the backseat, lying down in the back of the SUV. They folded down the backseat earlier, making enough room for two makeshift beds among the cans and supplies. Frank crawls in after him, shutting the door as he lies down beside Gerard. 

It’s dark here, far away from the lights of the city, and quiet too, without the sound of traffic and city life that they had grown so used to at the apartment. The only light is from the moon and stars glowing overhead, the only sound the rush of wind through the trees and their breaths. Frank curls toward him, the moonlight casting a faint glow over his features. Gerard reaches over, running his thumb over Frank’s cheek, admiring him.   
“You’re beautiful,” Gerard whispers.  
“Says you,” Frank murmurs. “You’re beautiful too.”  
“Not as beautiful as you,” Gerard kneels over him, gazing down at Frank. He presses a light kiss to Frank’s forehead. “I love you.”

Gerard hears Frank suck in a breath as he slips his hand under Frank’s shirt, pulling it off, his fingers cold against the warm skin. The cold air hits his bare skin as Gerard shrugs his own off, tossing it behind him. 

Frank’s skin is littered with bruises and scars, dark shadows cast across his skin in the dim light. Gerard’s is too, marks and remnants from all the fights and struggles.   
“Weird, isn’t it?” Frank whispers, running his fingers over a purple bruise on Gerard’s upper arm. A crooked scar runs from the bottom of Frank’s ribcage down his stomach. Frank flinches slightly when Gerard touches it. The bullet wound, Gerard thinks to himself. Each and every one is from something, the imprint of a memory, of a moment of life. They tell a story, a reminder of how fragile life is, but give a message of recovery and healing. No matter what they go through, how much they suffer, they still heal.   
“Does it hurt?” Gerard asks.   
“Not anymore,” Frank answers. “It just looks—” he trails off.   
“I think they’re lovely.” Gerard traces the curve of the scar with his tongue, kissing the skin lightly. “They are part of you. I wouldn’t love you any less with them. They make you, you.”  
He presses a soft kiss to the inside of Frank’s wrist, before Frank can protest, moving his lips gently across Frank’s skin. Gerard runs his fingers gently over each mark and bruise before pressing his lips against them.   
“They are beautiful,” he tells Frank as Frank absentmindedly runs his fingers across Gerard’s face, running over his cheekbone and lips.  
“Stop being so sappy,” Frank mutters. Even in the darkness, Gerard can tell how red his face is.   
“You love it,” Gerard whispers in his ear, pressing a kiss behind it as Frank shivers. “I know you do.”  
“Just shut up and kiss me.”

So he does, Frank’s fingers tangling in his hair as he lets out a soft moan. Gerard’s hands roam over soft skin, trailing kisses over his body. All his worries fade away, all the thoughts in his mind vanishing.   
“This okay?” he murmurs.   
“Yeah,” Frank gasps out as Gerard kisses him again. “Gee—Gerard—god, please.”  
Gerard can’t help but oblige, hearing half formed gasps emitted into the air as he moves over, then inside of Frank. He whispers Frank’s name over and over again, leaving wandering kisses across Frank’s skin. Gerard feels complete, whole in that moment, everything is perfect, absolutely perfect. 

Afterward, Gerard can’t help but smile as he holds Frank close, listening to the quiet sound of their breathing evening out. The two of them fit together perfectly, in each other’s embrace, lying among discarded clothes, tangled together under thin blankets. 

“I’ll take the first watch,” Gerard says at last. “Get some sleep, okay?”  
“No, I can,” Frank says, lifting his head and watching him. He moves to sit up, but Gerard stops him.  
“I’m not going to leave,” Gerard whispers. “I promise you.”  
Frank hesitates, before he lies back down, closing his eyes. “Promise?” he whispers.   
“I promise.”


	70. The World Will Never Take My Heart

#### Frank

He’s terrified to go to sleep, afraid that if he wakes, Gerard will be gone. But he rests his head against Gerard’s chest, listening to the sound of his heartbeat and closing his eyes. Sure enough, he finds himself falling asleep anyway to the sound of Gerard humming something. I trust him. 

In his dreams, he’s alone, crouched in the darkness. Frank hears footsteps pound by, boots hitting the pavement. Several of them too. He shrinks back further, pressing his back against the wall as the beam of a flashlight sweeps through the room. 

The sound of glass crunching makes him tense as Frank peers around the corner, seeing a figure rise, shadowed in darkness. Whoever it is shakes his head, glancing around the dark room, his eyes lingering on the place where Frank is crouching. When he fully turns, a beam of moonlight falls across his face and Frank realizes that it is Gerard. 

He runs toward Gerard, then skids to a stop as Gerard turns around. Frank can’t explain it exactly, but he knows that something is off. It’s Gerard, it definitely is. But inexplicably, something feels wrong. His skin prickles, a chill running down his spine as he stumbles back a step, his eyes never leaving Gerard, where Gerard’s dark eyes meet his, a grin curving over his lips. 

“Found you,” Gerard says.

Frank jerks awake, blinking in confusion as he sees the cans piled up in front of him. Oh. They’re in the car, not the apartment. Gerard’s arms are around him, light streaming in through the windows around him.  
“Morning, sleepyhead,” Gerard murmurs, his breath tickling Frank’s neck.   
“You too,” Frank yawns, resting his head against Gerard’s shoulder.   
Gerard laughs softly in his ear, pressing a light kiss behind Frank’s ear. “I love you,” he murmurs.   
“I love you too.”

Gerard reaches over, brushing the hair away from his face.   
“I was scared you would leave,” Frank confesses. “I thought I’d wake up and you’d be gone. Last time, you left.”  
“I’m still here,” Gerard says. “I promised you.”  
“I scared you with my threat, didn’t I?”  
“A bit,” Gerard smiles grimly. “But I did promise you.”  
“Did you not wake me up?” Frank asks. “You should have.”  
“I couldn’t sleep,” Gerard admits. “I was going to, but you looked so peaceful.”  
Frank gives him a mock glare. “You, sir, need to sleep.”  
Gerard shrugs. “I did earlier, remember?”  
Frank rolls his eyes. “For like two hours,” he says. “Sleep. Now.”  
“I’d rather talk to you.”  
“You can talk to me as you fall asleep. I’m going to take the next shift.”

The cold air brushes over Frank’s bare skin as he reaches over for his discarded clothes, beginning to get dressed, shrugging on his shirt and jeans. Gerard’s arms wrap around his shoulders as Gerard kisses him again. “I love you,” he says again. “Don’t forget.”  
Frank leans over, kissing Gerard. “I love you too,” he mumbles against Gerard’s lips. “Now sleep.”

“Talk to me,” Gerard requests. “I can’t fall asleep now.”  
“What do you want me to talk about?”  
Gerard shrugs. “Anything, really. Your voice is soothing. How about the future?”  
“The future sounds like shit.”  
Gerard pokes him. “Comforting.”  
“I don’t know,” Frank says, exasperated. “I guess, I hope it’s alright. I don’t know what will happen though. I’m going to bore you if I talk about it.”  
“What do you want us to do?”  
“Us?” Frank asks.   
“Yeah, us, dumbass. Unless you think I’m annoying.”  
“I do when you don’t sleep.”  
“I will if you give me an answer.”  
“I don’t know,” Frank says, gazing down at Gerard as Gerard lies down, putting his head in Frank’s lap. “I just want to be safe, I guess. I want us to be accepted, to not have to run for the rest of our lives. I want to be able to walk out on the streets and not be afraid of being caught or killed. I want us to live normal lives, want future generations and others like us to live normal lives.”  
“That sounds nice,” Gerard murmurs.   
“I guess I just want a place that we can call home,” Frank sighs. “A safe place, for everyone. If the laws don’t change and we aren’t ever fully accepted, I want somewhere where we can be safe. Us and others like us. We can’t be the only ones, there must be more people like us. ”  
“A group of people to fight.”  
“Yeah, to fight,” Frank grins. “I want to fight, that’s what. I want to make it so no one else has to suffer. We can free others like us. Make a safe place and fight against the injustice that we face. We could help other Afflicted learn their powers and give them a home.”  
Gerard just smiles at him.   
“We could open a safe place, you know. Somewhere hidden,” Frank says eagerly, his mind whirling. “If we could save them, if we freed them from places like the Facilities, we could give them a safe place to live. Somewhere to call home. We could give them what we never had. So they don’t have to run like we do. I don’t know, maybe we could make it so that no one ever has to be alone anymore, not because they are different. We can give them a place to belong to, a place with others like them.”  
Gerard gazes up at him. “I’d love that.”  
“Not just for the Afflicted,” Frank continues. “For others too. Humans too. I don’t think there should be a difference. We’re all the same, really, people who don’t belong. Some of us are just a bit different on the outside, that’s all. But we all belong together, we could belong together. Make our own little family. People like you and Mikey who have nowhere to go. People like me, who weren’t happy at all. Gee, we could make a place for the outcasts, for runaways, for people like us. For people with nowhere to call home.”  
“A place to call home,” Gerard murmurs. “I love that.”  
“We could make a change,” Frank says excitedly. “Gee, you and I. We could do this.”   
“If that’s what you want.”  
“I do,” Frank answers. “I really do, Gee. Are you tired now?”   
“No.”  
“What else do you want me to—” He trails off because Gerard is already asleep.


	71. I’m Writing This Letter And Wishing You Well

#### Gerard

Someone is shaking Gerard’s shoulder. Gerard sits up, rubbing his eyes as he glances over at Frank. It’s light out, probably around noon, he’d guess. They are parked in an overgrown parking lot, grass growing through the cracks on the pavement. Gerard glances around, but he can’t see any sign of other people.   
“What’s wrong?”  
Frank jerks his head toward the radio. “That,” he says.   
“Two weeks ago, an explosion rocketed through a suburb of Fourth Town,” the newscaster says. “Thankfully, no one was hurt, but officials were puzzled as to how or why it happened. Originally believed to be a gas leak, it is now clear that it was not an accident, but rather the result of possible terrorist activities.”  
“Terrorist?” Gerard asks.  
“We have two suspects, Michael Way and Raymond Toro,” the newscaster continues.   
Gerard’s head snaps up. “What the fuck,” he spits. “No, this can’t be right.”  
“Is this the activity of the Afflicted?” another person’s voice comes on the radio.   
“Our sources say that no, these two are not Afflicted and are human. But someone must pay for this and we won’t stop until we catch them.”

Gerard swallows hard, slamming the off button to the radio. He grips the edge of his seat, trying to stop his mind from racing. Everything was for nothing then. Mikey and Ray aren’t safe, no matter how much he tried. It was all for nothing, everything was. Erasing Mikey’s memories, running far away. The guards didn’t chase them down like he had hoped, no. Instead, they chose to go after Mikey and Ray. Burning anger forces its way through Gerard’s veins as he breathes out a harsh breath.   
“Gee—”  
“I need a phone,” Gerard interrupts. “Now.” 

The payphone smells like piss. Gerard screws up his face as he steps into the small booth. He’s not even sure if it still works—who uses payphones anymore? But it’s the only option he has. Through the grimy glass, he sees Frank standing at the bus station, reading one of the signs. Gerard turns his back on Frank, glancing down at the red phone, cheap plastic smooth against his fingers. 

Gerard’s hands shake as he inserts the coin, dialing the number, his fingers knowing where to go. She always made them memorize the number. _Just in case you need to call me,_ she would tell him. He doesn’t even know if she will pick up, for all he knows, the number could be disconnected. But it’s the only thing he can think of. 

Gerard presses the phone to his ear, hearing the dial tone, the phone ringing out. He casts a glance over his shoulder again, at where Frank is standing.  
“Come on,” he mutters. “Come on. Pick up.”  
The phone continues to ring out with no response. Gerard sighs, ready to hang up before a voice floods the speakers.   
“Dr. Donna Way, how may I help you?”  
Gerard wipes his sweaty hands on his pants, taking a deep breath. “It’s me.”  
“Gerard.” She doesn’t sound surprised. “Hello.”  
“Call it off.”  
“What?”  
“Don’t play dumb with me!” Gerard shouts. He takes a deep breath before continuing. “Mikey and Ray. Leave them alone. They aren’t part of this. You know we aren’t with them anymore. We cut them loose, we’re far away from there.”  
“Where are you?”  
“Like I’d tell you that.”  
“Gerard, I’m trying to help you.”  
“Help me?” Gerard splutters. “You tried to kill us.”  
“Everything I do is for your own good. You don’t understand several things, Gerard.”  
“No shit,” Gerard laughs. “Maybe you can start with telling me why you faked your death. Then why you tried to kill me. Do you even care about me? Or Mikey?”  
“Gerard, you don’t understand—”  
“Then make me.”  
“I can’t explain this to you, not now. All I need is for you to tell me where you are. And I’ll let your friend and your brother go.”  
“You know what?” Gerard asks. “Make you a deal. I’ll come to you. You let Ray and Mikey go.”  
“What about the other?”   
Gerard’s blood runs cold. “What about him?”  
“We want the two of you in exchange for Mikey and Ray.”  
“No,” Gerard says.   
“Interesting,” his mother’s voice takes on a calculating tone. “Well, we have the two of them and it will be quite easy to pin the blame solely on the two of them. You wouldn’t do that to your younger brother, would you?”  
“You’d do it to your son?”  
“Don’t play this game with me, Gerard. You know you can’t win.”  
Gerard grits his teeth. “I already said I’d go. I won’t struggle, I promise. Just, please. Leave Frank out of this, you don’t need him.”  
“A deal is a deal.”

“We’ll do it,” Frank says.   
Gerard whips around, staring at him. Frank is standing behind him, glaring daggers at Gerard. He shoves past Gerard, speaking into the receiver.  
“To save them,” he tells Gerard softly. “I can’t let you be the only selfless one.”  
“You will?” Gerard’s mother asks.   
“Come get us,” Frank says. “As soon as we hear the news, we’ll tell you where we are.”  
“How can I trust you?” she asks. “I can force you to do this right now.”  
“Because you have no other option,” Frank responds simply. “If you don’t release them now, you will never find us again. We’re leaving.”  
There’s only silence, stretching on for so long that Gerard wonders if she has hung up, before her voice crackles through the speakers again. “Done. Tell us where you are.”  
Gerard glances over at Frank who runs to the radio, fiddling with a dial.  
“I’m sorry folks, we have heard from our source again. Michael Way and Raymond Toro are innocent. Instead, the culprits seem to be two of the wanted escaped Afflicted, Gerard Way and Frank Iero, who forced these two to go along with their malicious plots. We would like to express our apologies to the victims. Stay safe out there, people.”  
“Cantar Avenue,” Gerard says softly. “There is your only hint, seeker. See if you can catch us.” He hangs up before he can hear his mother’s indignant response.


	72. Burning On, Just Like The Match You Strike To Incinerate

#### Frank

It’s dark inside the house as he kicks down one of the rotting boards, climbing through the broken window. Glass crunches under his sneakers as he turns, offering a hand to Gerard as he follows. Old drapes hang nearby, rustling in the wind, a thick layer of dust coating the entire room. Frank glances around, at the dark chandelier hanging from the ceiling, to the barren room, the floor coated in sawdust, floorboards half torn up and rotting. 

“What are we doing here?” he asks, his voice echoing in the empty room.   
“Laying low,” Gerard answers, brushing dirt off of his pants.   
“Your mom is going to be pissed at you,” Frank sighs. “You know it. You promised her we’d go to her if she let Ray and Mikey go.”  
“I know,” Gerard smirks. “That’s kinda the point. Besides, I said that I’d go. Never said that you would.”  
“I thought we talked about this already.” Frank folds his arms over his chest.  
“I gave her a hint,” Gerard counters. “Anyway, since when were they playing fair?”  
Gerard does have a point there. “What if she takes it out on Mikey and Ray?”  
“Can’t. They’ll lose too much face. Mikey and Ray aren’t Afflicted. They have more rights than we do.”  
“You got that right,” Frank mutters, following Gerard into the next room. Their footprints leave a winding trail through the dust as they make their way around the small house. It’s empty, probably abandoned long ago. Whoever used to live here hasn’t been back for a long time, Frank notes as he glances into the darkened kitchen, seeing the utensils lying unused in the drawers. 

At last, they settle facing the window, clothing coated in sawdust, a blanket spread out beneath them for comfort. From his position on the floor, Frank can see the faint glow of the stars in the dark sky above. He watches as Gerard peers out the window, glancing around before sitting down.   
“Any sign of them?”  
“Not yet,” Gerard answers.   
“That’s good.”  
“You sure I can’t convince you to leave?” Gerard whispers.   
“Yep,” Frank responds, tucking his head onto Gerard’s shoulder. “You’re not getting rid of me.”  
Gerard makes a low noise in his throat. “I know,” he says. “I just wish you would go. I hate the fact that you are in danger.”  
“Don’t you dare leave me.”  
“I won’t, I promised you,” Gerard sighs. “No matter how much I hate it.”  
“Well, deal with it,” Frank says, pressing a kiss behind Gerard’s ear. “Cause you are stuck with me.”  
“And that’s the complete worst thing in the world,” Gerard says dryly, ruffling Frank’s hair. “Get some sleep, pretty.”  
“What about you?”  
“I’ll wake you up soon. Just don’t drool on me again.”

He doesn’t so much as sleep, more dozes off, his head resting against Gerard’s shoulder, Gerard stroking his hair. If he could stay like this forever he would, just the two of them surrounded by darkness and silence, alone. 

But the peace is broken as Gerard shakes him awake, his eyes wide with alarm. One look is all he needs; Frank jumps up, wide awake and alert.  
“They’re here,” Gerard pants out. 

Sure enough, he can hear the crunching of tires on the gravel and the slam of car doors. He hears gruff voices sound before the unmistakable cocking of a gun. The two of them turn, ready to run. But it’s too late. 

The glass of the remaining windows explodes inward as Frank ducks, watching in amazement and horror as the windows shatter around them, a million pieces of glass raining down onto the floor, light flooding in around him. Gerard grabs him, yanking him backward behind the next wall as bullets rip through the plaster of the wall, leaving pinpricks of light and peeling paint. He covers his head with his hands, crouching down, Gerard pressed against him, hearing bullets slam into the wall right above him.

Frank grits his teeth, pulling the invisible threads of energy inside of him, a purple shield expanding in a bubble in front of him. He hears the guards shout in alarm, seeing the little ripples as the bullets rebound. Frank wavers, his head spinning as Gerard pulls him backward, down the stairs and out the back door just as Frank’s force field gives out, bullets pinging to the ground. 

“Go, go!” Gerard yells. The two of them sprint out across the yard, toward the trees on the other side, the moonlight washing over them, turning the world around them silver. 

A bullet whistles by Frank’s ear, making him flinch at the sting, blood wet against his fingers as he reaches up, touching the wound. Frank turns as he runs, clumsily throwing shield after shield up behind him as he continues to run, hoping to slow down the guards and bullets. Purple crackles in the air as he does so, staggering to the left slightly, but somehow managing to keep on his feet. 

Bullets crash against the shield, but Frank holds it there, through the searing pain in his temple. White spots dance in front of his vision as Gerard yanks him backward, the two of them crashing through the bushes, dodging branches and thornbushes, leaves tangling in their hair. He coughs out a mouthful of blood onto the ground, his hand pressed against his nose, trying to stem the dark flow. 

At last he stumbles to a stop, breathing heavily. There’s only silence other than the rush of wind through the trees, the occasional creak of a branch and the hoot of the owl. No sign of the harsh sound of voices or gunshots. 

Frank coughs again, blood splattering out across his hand, grimacing at the heavy metallic tang. His nosebleed doesn’t seem to be slowing, neither does the sticky flow of blood from his ears or the corner of his eyes. Burning pain throbs in the back of his skull as if the sharp point of a knife was driven into it, a band of pressure tightening around his forehead. Tears prick in the corners of his eyes as Frank blinks them away, gasping as his headache subsides, allowing him to breathe.   
“Fuck,” Gerard hisses, doubling over.   
“What is it?” Frank glances over at him.   
Gerard’s hand is clenched over his shoulder, his face pale. Even in the darkness, Frank can see the dark blood soaking through his shirt.


	73. At The End Of The World

#### Gerard

Gerard ducks under a branch, the hillside looming above them, an old gnarled oak tree stretching toward the clear night sky. He can hear the branches snapping, see the beams of the flashlights sweeping through the woods below. Shouts echo, the bushes rustling as guards trample through the forests, searching for them. Gerard stumbles forward, his hand clutched to his bloody T-shirt where the bullet grazed him, agonizing pain tips through his skin so much so he just wants to curl up and let it all be over. But he forces himself to keep moving.

The long grass rustles as they climb, ducking around branches, the moon glowing overhead, illuminating everything in pale silver, outcrops of rock glowing in the darkness, branches creaking in the breeze. The field looks like an ocean, grass rolling in the wind, washed with the silver moonlight. Above, the stars glint coldly, twinkling in the darkened sky.

There is nowhere to run, nowhere to hide. They’ve reached the end of the world. 

He has to lean on Frank for support as the two of them limp up the side of the hill. They stumble a few times, Gerard’s head spinning as he breathes in the cool air. Frank murmurs something encouraging as they make their way up the steep path, little pebbles tumbling down the dirt trail. It’s beautiful up here, he has to admit it. If it were any other day, maybe he and Frank could come up here for a picnic or to watch the stars. But they can’t stop, not even for a moment as the flashlights sweep through the forest, the men looking for them.

He falls to his knees at the top of the hill, the oak tree looming above him, branches obscuring the sky. Frank jogs a little farther down the hill, Gerard watching his faint outline disappear as he scans the surrounding forests. A breeze blows through the tree, branches rattling above him, the cold air cooling the patches of sweat on Gerard’s forehead. He sucks in a breath of the cold air gratefully, wincing as burning pain flares through his shoulder again. 

From here, it is as if Gerard can see the world. He can see the dark road winding its way through the trees, see the faint outline of the city, the glow of light surrounding it. For a moment, his thoughts stray to Ray and Mikey. What are they doing right now? Are they okay? Are they happy? Safe? Alive?

“Anything?” he calls out softly as Frank reappears, slightly out of breath. He looks exhausted, stumbling slightly as he reaches Gerard, his face drawn.  
“They’re closing in on us,” Frank says grimly. “We don’t have much time.”  
Gerard nods, breathing out slowly. “Wow,” he mutters. “I guess we didn’t stand a chance.”  
“Is this how we die?” Frank asks.  
“Are you scared?”  
“No,” Frank answers after a brief pause. “You?”  
Gerard shakes his head. “No. Not when I’m with you.” He moves to stand up, then gasps out as burning pain lances through his skin where the bullet dug through his shoulder. “Shit.”  
“How is it?” Frank asks, dropping to his knees in front of Gerard. “Can I see?”  
Gerard shakes his head, his face pale as he pushes Frank away. “It’s fine. I’m fine. ”  
Frank doesn’t look satisfied, but he doesn’t press. “What do we do now?” he asks.  
Gerard gazes at him, at the way the moonlight falls across his features, the strained look on his face, Frank’s hair falling into his face that Gerard wants to brush away.  
“Run,” Gerard whispers. “Frank, please run.”  
“No,” Frank says immediately. “I’m not leaving.”  
“I’m injured,” Gerard pleads. “I’ll just slow you down. Leave me here. Go. There’s still time. You can get away if you leave now. _Please,_ Frank. Please. Go.”  
“Never,” Frank hisses. There’s no flash of hesitation, no wavering doubt. Just resolution. “I’m not going without you.”  
“Please,” Gerard begs. “I need you to be safe. I can’t bear to be the death of you.”  
Frank shakes his head. “No,” he says firmly. “I’m not going. I’m not leaving you to bleed to death.”  
“You have to.”  
“No, I don’t. I don’t have to do anything. You saved me when I was going to die. I owe the same to you.”  
“I’m telling you that you don’t. If you want to make it up to me, leave.”  
“You can’t make me.”

Gerard watches him for a moment, falling silent. His powers whisper in the back of his mind, curling up, ready to strike. He could. If he did, he could save Frank, he might be able to. It would mean that he would lose Frank forever. But at least he would be alive. If only he hadn’t been so selfish. When he left Mikey and Ray, when he wiped Mikey’s mind, he should have done Frank’s too. But he was too unwilling to let go. Because losing Frank meant losing a part of himself, meant losing what mattered most to him in the whole world. 

“No,” Frank’s eyes flash as if he’s guessed what Gerard is thinking of. “No way. You promised.”  
“Frank,” Gerard pleads. “Please. I need you to go. I can’t watch you die. Please leave for me. If you love me, go.”  
“You can’t say that.”  
“Frankie,” Gerard reaches over, pulling Frank forward. “I promise, everything is going to be okay. Just go.”  
“No way,” Frank spits back. “Together, remember? You promised.”  
Gerard grinds his teeth together. “Frank,” he says warningly.  
“Gerard,” Frank shoots back in the same tone of voice. “No. You promised me.”  
“Don’t make me.”  
“No, Gerard.” Anger blazes in Frank’s eyes. “Don’t. Don’t you fucking dare. It’s the one thing you’ve always promised me.”  
“I can’t let you die!”  
“You think I can?”  
“Frank—”  
“Then we die together,” Frank insists. “I’m not leaving without you.”  
Gerard laughs into Frank’s hair, despite himself. “What would Mikey and Ray say?” he whispers, his throat closing up.  
“Probably how stupid we’re being,” Frank murmurs. “How we both should have run. How we wasted our time.”  
“That wasn’t an option,” Gerard sighs. “I wish it was.”  
“I don’t care what happens,” Frank says. “If we die now, as long as we’re together, I don’t care.”

Gerard smiles sadly, holding Frank closer and closing his eyes. He is alright with this. Everything will be okay, eventually. Maybe not in this life, but in another or the one after that. All he knows is that being here, on the hilltop, surrounded by the guards closing in, holding Frank close, he feels strangely at peace.  
“Together,” he whispers. 

It’s the sound of a gun clicking echoes across the field that makes Gerard’s gaze meet Frank’s as they both realize that it’s the end.


	74. Save Yourself, I’ll Hold Them Back

#### Gerard

Gerard struggles to his feet, a wave of pain crashing through his shoulder as he does so. The blinding beam of a flashlight falls across his face as he squints. Besides him, Frank throws an arm up to shield his face. Several figures surround them on all sides, forming a loose ring, guns gleaming in the light of the flashlights. The hillside suddenly looks foreboding, their surroundings washed in bright ghostly light, branches starkly illuminated against the darkness around. It’s no longer beautiful or peaceful; it’s the harshness of reality. 

“Hands up!” A gruff voice yells out. “You are surrounded. By order of the Facility, surrender and there will be no need for bloodshed. There is no where for you to go. This does not have to be violent, just come with us.”  
“Fuck you!” Frank yells back. “We aren’t giving up.”  
The guard regards him coldly before turning to Gerard. “It will be much easier for you to go along. Surrender now.”  
Gerard shakes his head. “No,” he says, his voice hoarse. “He’s right. We’re not going down without a fight.” The words sound so much braver than he feels right now, but Gerard refuses to let the guards see how scared he is. _Head held high,_ he reminds himself. _I’m not going to be weak._  
“Very well,” the guard says. He motions the others forward. “We gave you a choice. Take them.”   
Gerard grits his teeth, ready to fight. If this really is the end, he’ll be damned if he doesn’t at least try to fight. Maybe he can make it so Frank has a chance to get away. Being dead is better than a life on the run, a life trapped in a cell. Being dead is better than seeing Frank die. 

But before he can move, an explosion of purple knocks the guards all backward. Gerard watches in amazement as the bubble expands, grass flying up from the field. Several shapes fly backward, sickening crunches sounding in the air. In the center, he and Frank stand unscathed. The guards have been thrown backwards, guns littered across the grass. Gerard stares at it in amazement, wondering for a second if he is actually delirious. Maybe he has imagined all of it, the lack of blood and oxygen getting to him. But no, it’s Frank. Frank standing before him, hands outstretched, eyes wide, irises reflecting purple, blood dripping from his face. Frank, who has just saved his life for the millionth time, who is standing there, defending him from the guards. Frank, who he wants to protect forever, who he wants to hold and never let go. Frank, who is beautiful and strong, Frank, who Gerard is desperately and deeply in love with. 

“I can’t hold it for much longer,” Frank gets out through gritted teeth. “Gerard, go. Run. Save yourself.”  
“Not without you. I won’t make it anyway, you know that.” He won’t, he knows that for a fact. No matter what, he’s going to die, either from bleeding out or being riddled full of bullets. So he chooses to spend his last moments alive with Frank.   
“I can hold them off—”  
Gerard presses his finger to Frank’s lips, silencing him. “No,” he says softly. “You refused to leave earlier. I’m doing the same. Together. We either live or die together. There’s no me without you.”   
Frank gazes up at him, hazel eyes wide, a tear tracing a path down his grimy cheek. Sweat and blood soak through his clothing, caked across his face. Dirt is crusted over his skin, grass tangled in his dark hair. There’s blood leaking out of his nose, crusted beneath his ears, even some coming from the corners of Frank’s eyes. He looks desperate, haunting, destroyed, but determined. And Gerard thinks Frank has never been more beautiful to him before.   
“Kiss me,” Frank begs him at last. “As long as we’re together until the end, I’m okay with this. I love you, Gerard. So, so much. I love you.”  
“Together,” Gerard repeats, drawing closer, taking Frank’s face in his hands. “Frank, I love you.” The last words he may ever say. And he’s fine with that. So he kisses Frank like his life depends on it, like it’s the last kiss he will ever have, because it probably is. Frank’s lips are soft against his as he kisses Gerard back eagerly, his body trembling as he presses against Gerard. Frank tastes of blood and sweat, of desperation. But Gerard can’t help but want more. 

Trapped in a halo of Frank’s powers, Gerard reaches out with his own, pulling Frank closer to him. He lets go, ignoring everything that could happen. The two of them, held in each other's embrace is all he needs now. With Frank cradled against him, he finally feels free. Who cares what happens to him now? Because if this is how he dies, he has to admit, it’s not the worst way to go. As long as he and Frank are together, everything will be okay.

As the first gunshots rip through the air, he finds that he doesn’t care anymore.

He’s tired of running, tired of fighting. He’s tired of trying to survive. If death wants him so badly, then maybe it’s time for death to take him away. So when the shouts rip through the air, he merely closes his eyes. He can close his eyes and pretend that he’s far away from here, far away from the guns and the bright lights, from the guards and their dark uniforms. He can pretend that when he opens them, everything will be okay now. And Frank will be with him and Frank will be safe. 

The loss of blood is getting to him now. Gerard stumbles forward, still holding on to Frank, his head spinning, pain burning in every nerve of his body. He can’t tell if they are falling or maybe they are floating, he doesn’t know. Maybe their bodies have fallen to the ground, entwined together, soaking the grass and the earth with dark blood as they breathe their last. Maybe the guards are kneeling beside the two of them, shutting their eyelids, folding their arms across their chests, zipping up black body bags. Or maybe they are flying above it all, soaring toward the stars and heaven above. Maybe this will all be a dream and the two of them will wake up, safe, at home, alive. 

But Gerard is not foolish enough to believe that.


	75. Pain In My Heart For Your Dying Wish

#### Gerard

They say your life flashes before your eyes when you die. 

Gerard finds that almost true. 

He sees himself growing up, sees himself and Mikey, laughing, watching stupid television shows and yelling over comic books and characters. He watches as his father smiles, ruffling his hair, telling him that everything will be all right. He glimpses himself surrounded by gray walls. He sees Frank, sees the days they spent in the cars and on the road. He sees the apartments and Ray and Mikey, the place they had known to call home. He watches himself and Frank, curled up beside each other, watches the two of them dance, first in the apartment, then at the ball. Gerard watches as the explosion goes off, sees himself wiping Mikey’s memories. Finally he sees the hillside, the guards and guns, the purple glow as Frank tries to protect the two of them. Him kissing Frank because in theory, true love’s kiss is supposed to save all, but it didn’t work out in the end. 

But the last thing he sees are the stars. 

They glint overhead, dancing, twinkling cruelly. So far away, yet so close, watching over him as he lies, coughing, warm blood splattering across his face, grass rustling softly in the breeze. Around him, Gerard hears the muted sound of voices, footsteps, the crackling of a radio, the sound of his name. He tries to reach out, searching for Frank, but he can’t do anything but stare up into the sky, at the stars overhead. 

A long time ago, Gerard wished to see the stars. 

When he was alone, trapped inside the gray walls, that was all he ever wanted. Staring up at the dark gray ceiling night after night, he desperately hoped and wished, he prayed. He would have given anything to see the stars again, to point out the shapes like he used to with Mikey. He would draw stupid designs and constellations that didn’t really exist, just to hear Mikey’s indignant response, but it didn’t matter anyway, because all constellations were made up and no one cared if Gerard just simply made his own. 

But mostly, he wanted to be free. Even after all the suffering, it would be worth it. To taste the fresh air one last time, to actually live. To be free from the closing gray walls, from the hands tightening around his throat, from the prison that he was tethered to. He wanted to see the color again, to feel the brush of wind against his face, to be alive. 

Now, he’s not so sure if it was a good idea. 

If they were still there, if they stayed where they were meant to, maybe they would be alive. They would be trapped, but they would be alive. Maybe he was wrong, maybe a life trapped is better than death, because at least he would be alive. 

But there’s no time to regret now, no time for anything. Because he’s dead, the world slowly going in and out around him, muted voices around him. He can feel someone shaking him, something touching his face. Gerard lets himself relax as he finally reaches the end. 

Except one thing is wrong. 

He isn’t dead. 

He knows he is. Or at least he is supposed to be. He was supposed to die. They both were. He should be dead by now, he should have bled out by now. He is dead, he knows it for certain. This must be the afterlife, or whatever happens after death. Because he’s dead. There is no way that he isn’t.

Then why does he feel pain?

The world comes back into focus, the stars snapping into place above him. Agony flares through every one of his senses, burning pain forcing its way through his veins as he struggles to breathe. Around him, the voices are talking, hands grabbing his, someone sobbing, calling his name out desperately.

_Wake up, Gerard, I know you can do it. Please wake up. You said that we would die together. Please, Gerard. Don’t leave me like this._

Gerard wants to give some sign, to show that he can hear, but he can’t move. The stars glint down at him coldly, twinkling in the night sky above. He tries to lift his head, but he can’t, hearing someone screaming as there’s a loud beeping noise and something is lowered over his face. 

He fights, but he knows instantly something is wrong. _Stop,_ he tries to say. _Stop it._ Pain flares in his temples, the worst pain he’s ever felt. He struggles away from whoever is holding him down, but he can’t move as the pain heightens past what he even thought was possible. Pressure builds in his mind as something inside of him breaks. 

Gerard can’t tell exactly what happens, but he knows it is something bad. In a moment, he’s falling, yet connected to everything at once. Flashes of light flare through his mind, muted colors, bursts of voices, faces appearing, then flickering out of existence as Gerard struggles to stop. But something is forcing him to keep going. A ragged cry escapes from his lips as he thrashes, trying to stop. His powers are slipping out of his control. He can feel himself fading away, darkness pressing in around him. Someone is yelling, multiple people are. But Gerard has never felt more before in his life, in the twenty short years he has walked the earth. He thought he was ready to die, but something inside of him decided that he wasn’t. It’s as if his powers have taken a mind of their own, no matter how he tries to stop them. So he gives up, letting them take their course. It doesn’t matter anymore anyway. 

“Get him—”  
“He’s—”  
“Gerard!”

There’s a prick on the back of his neck, something cold sliding through his veins. As he fades into the darkness he can hear someone screaming his name, but something is wrong—something is not right—

Then there is nothing, nothing but the stars.


	76. The Good Guys Die And The Bad Guys Win

# Part Four: The Looking Glass Of You And I

### Location: The Facility 004A in Room 1  
Time: 18:07  
Subject: M-07,M-74  
Notes: s̶̶̸a̸̴̴v̴̷̴e̸̴̵ ̷̴̷u̶̸̴s̶̸̸  


  


#### M-74

The universe has always made sense to M-74. It is simple. A set routine, like clockwork. Everything has its set position, its set way of living. Everything has its own role. Everything has its own reason. No one steps out of line. Everyone obeys what they are supposed to. It all falls into place. Everything works perfectly. It all does what it is supposed to do. It keeps him safe. It keeps everything safe. 

White. Soft white. Pure white. It is all he sees. White and gray. Gentle colors, gentle touches, gentle voices. Telling him where to go, what to do. Do this, M-74. Go here. Hold your hand up. And he obeys. It’s instinct, really. The calm voices say something, the Doctor says something and he does it without hesitation. No choices and that is good. It is good here. Beautiful. Safe. 

He is safe here. He knows that. The Place keeps him safe. Everything here is designed to keep him safe, keep him alive. The Doctor keeps him safe. Safe from his powers, keeps him under control. He trusts them to keep him alive. He knows that it is dangerous for him to be alive. But not here, inside, where it is safe.

The Place keeps them safe from the Fictaliy. The Fictaliy. M-74 shivers at the thought. The glowing white eyes, loud noises. The Fictaliy are truly a sight to be terrified of. The Fictaliy are demonic beings intent on hunting down the Afflicted, intent on killing them all. No one knows quite what they are, but all M-74 knows is that he is safe here, within the white walls of this place. It keeps them out. He is thankful to them for keeping him safe. Without the Place, without the Doctor, he does not know what he might do. 

The Doctor told him there once was chaos. He is special, he is different, but he is also dangerous. That is why the Fictaliy are hunting him. That is why the Doctor keeps him safe. But M-74 has been here for his entire life. He has never seen the Fictaliy. He has never seen the dangers of the outside world. 

Something changed yesterday. A woman and a man were there, their faces familiar. Soft arms enveloping him, so familiar and warm, comforting even though he knows he should move away. The gentle touch of a hand on his head, against his cheek.  
“It’s part of the process,” he hears the Doctor says. “Do not be alarmed, he will be okay.”  
“Does he recognize us?”  
“When he came to see you,” the Doctor answers. “He might have—”  
“I don’t know what you mean,” the man says. “We haven’t seen him in two years. Is he better now?”  
“He’s getting there,” the Doctor reassures them. “Sometimes, in order to fix the problem, we have to get to the root of it first and take that out. Then we rebuild.”

It makes no sense to him, but the man and woman seem to understand, nodding. They tell M-74 that they love him. They tell him to get better, but that makes no sense to M-74 either. The man pats his head gently, the woman kissing his forehead before they leave again. Then it is just quiet again. 

His dreams are the only disturbing part. He never had them like this before. Before, there was just peace. There was just quiet. Before, it was safe. But last night, he dreamed of blood. But there’s no blood here. It’s clean, pure. But M-74 is certain of what he saw. 

Glistening dark scarlet. Colors blooming across the sky. Blood, blossoming across clothing. A gnarled oak tree stretching up toward the sky, darkness surrounding him on all sides. Velvet blue and midnight black. The world washed with silver. Stars gleaming overhead. The soft brush of grass against his cheek, the metallic tang of blood. Blinding purple light, a shield thrown up around him. Emotions, ones that he did not even know existed before. Pain, something that he has never felt before, not in the Place with its peace. Tears, salt stinging the cuts on his cheek. His voice hoarse from screaming, his lips forming a word, a word, one that means a lot to him, one that he can’t stop saying, but he doesn’t know what it means. There were harsh noises, cutting through the silence. Desperation, horror ravaging through him. Bright beams of light, blinding. The Fictaliy were there, intent on hunting them down. 

Them. 

There was another there too. M-74 is certain of it. There are other images too. Hands caressing his face, the gentle press of lips against his skin, heat searing through his body. So different from the man and the woman. A beautiful face, eyes that shine with the world, a smile that lights up the room. A figure, one that he wants to touch, one that he wants to be touched by. Warmth that lights up in his stomach, a happy feeling bubbling up inside of him. The desperate desire, a need, but he doesn’t know for what. Something, no, someone. Someone that is important, but he just doesn’t know how. He wants to know. There’s something there, something that he can’t quite reach, even as he strains. Like something is missing, but he just doesn’t know what, or how. 

But when M-74 woke, he knew it was all a dream. There was nothing of that sort here, nothing but him. But he doesn’t care. He is happy here, the simple life that he leads. It’s just him and that’s all he needs. He has always been here. It is not possible for the images to happen. The Doctor says that it is just dreams and he believes her. He has always been here, away from the Fictaliy, away from the bright colors and pain. Here, where it is safe and quiet. It is just him, the Doctors and her helpers. He needs nothing else. He is safe in the Place. He is safe from the Fictaliy. There is nothing else and never was. He knows that. There is nothing else.


	77. Without You Is How I Disappear

#### Gerard

White. 

That’s the first color Gerard sees when he opens his eyes, blinking up at the ceiling above him. Soft light washes the room as he pushes himself up gingerly, wincing as pain glances through him. Everything hurts, but not as much as he expected it to. Gerard breathes out slowly as he eases himself into a sitting position. 

He’s in a room of some sort, plain white walls surrounding him. There’s nothing in it except for the bed and the soft white sheets and a wooden chair across from him. Gerard glances down at himself, surprised to find himself clean. For the first time in a long time, he’s clean, fully clean, his skin clean and soft, the dirt and blood scrubbed away. He’s dressed in a white uniform, the uncomfortable realization that he didn’t dress himself running through him. Gerard lifts a hand to his hair, unsurprised to find that it has been cut short as well. His gunshot wound is healed too, a thin bandage wrapped around his upper arm. The one thing that is different is that there is a plastic contraption of some sort around his right wrist. Unsurprisingly, it doesn’t budge as he tugs on it, watching as it flashes red for a moment, then returns to dull black. 

Gerard stares at his surroundings, confused for a minute. Where the hell is he? He doesn’t recognize the room he is in, not in the slightest bit. For a moment, he almost thinks he is back at the—no. It can’t be. He can’t be back there. The last thing he remembers is falling, the guns, the hillside, and— 

Frank.

Something is wrong, he knows that. Something went horribly and terribly wrong. But Gerard’s head hurts so badly when he tries to think of it. All he knows is that something happened. He remembers hearing Frank screaming his name and the sound of panic before there was nothing. 

He tries to reach out with his powers, but there’s nothing. There’s only silence surrounding him. Gerard’s heart pounds in his chest. No. It can’t be. Either his powers are gone or Frank is—that means that— 

The door opens and Gerard is too out of it to even be surprised by the fact that his mother is standing right there. Right now, all he can think about is Frank.   
“Where is he?” Gerard demands. He tries to stand up, failing miserably as the world tilts around him.   
“You’re exhausted. Don’t try to move.”  
“Where is he?” Gerard asks, his voice rising. “What did you do to him? Where is he?”   
“We didn’t do anything.”  
“What happened?”  
“You were shot.”  
“Yeah, no shit,” Gerard laughs, the sound twisted and haunting to his own ears. “I know that.”  
“We patched you up. You were nearly dead. If not for us, you would have—”  
“You tried to kill me. What even is this?” Gerard asks, pointing at the plastic wrapped around his wrist. “What’s going on?”  
“It’s to control your powers.”  
“What?” Gerard stares at her, relief and horror flashing through him at the same time. “How? Why? Why are you doing this? Why did you do all of this?”   
“I was doing what’s best for you. As your mother—”  
“You left us alone. You made us think you were dead.”   
“Gerard—”  
“What about Mikey, huh? You left him alone too. He almost died, did you know that?”  
“Why did you try to escape?” his mother avoids his question, only fueling the anger burning inside of him.   
“Why did I try to escape?” Gerard lets out another derisive laugh. “Why did I try to escape? That is the question you are asking me? Because I was fucking trapped! Because I knew that if we didn’t, we would die. You’re still not answering my question. Where is he?” If Frank is dead—no. Gerard refuses to even think about it. A world without Frank isn’t a world to him. He can’t be dead.   
His mother sighs, a look of something almost like pity crossing her face. She turns away from him, unclipping a radio from her pocket.   
“Bring him in.”

The door creaks open and Gerard gasps, throwing his arms around the boy that enters the room. Frank’s hair is shorter now, cut so short that it looks several shades darker than the brown that Gerard knows it is. He’s dressed in a similar white uniform, a similar black plastic contraption encircling his right wrist. But Gerard doesn’t care. 

“Frank,” he cries. “Oh my god, I thought you were gone.”When Frank doesn’t react, he takes a step backward, suspicion pricking in his mind. Something is different, something that sends a chill down Gerard’s spine as he looks Frank over.

Frank looks the same as he gazes up at Gerard. But something is wrong. Frank's eyes are blank, without a trace of recognition.   
“I’m sorry. Do I know you?” he asks in the voice that Gerard knows so well.   
Gerard opens his mouth, then closes it, horror flashing through him. _No. This can’t be happening._

“What the fuck did you do to him?” Gerard yells.   
“We didn’t do anything,” his mother replies, the same cruel look never leaving her face. “We tried to save him. We weren’t the ones who did this.”  
 _Not the ones._ The realization hits him, his gut twisting as bile rises in his throat. He remembers the nightmares, Frank screaming his name. They weren’t nightmares, after all, were they?  
“No,” Gerard stumbles back. “No.” He should have known this was going to happen. He has always known, hasn’t he? There was always a part of him that knew, deep down that his powers were dangerous, that he was dangerous. That they were right all along. He hadn’t listened, hadn’t believed, and now he’s hurt the people he loves.   
“I’m sorry,” his mother steps forward, reaching to comfort him.   
“Get away from me!” Gerard yells. “Don’t—I—Frank he’s—”

He was right. Everything he grows close to, everything he loves inevitably dies. He should have listened to his instincts from the start. _He was right._ He is a monster, more of one than he ever dreamed was possible. First Ray, then Mikey, and now Frank. Everyone that Gerard dares to grow close to, everyone he dares love is taken away from him. And it’s all his fault too. He did this to Frank. 

Gerard doesn’t even stop to think about what this means to them. The two of them are trapped here, not in the same Facility, but in one that seems almost identical. His mother is here, probably to do something. He can’t access his powers, not like he ever wants to again after what he did. There really is no way for him to escape now, really no way out. But it doesn’t matter anymore, he can’t bring himself to care about what happens to him next. 

Cause Frank is gone. And it’s all his fault.


	78. Just You And I, Your Starless Eyes

#### Gerard

There is no color here. Once, there at least was the glow from Frank’s emotions, the aura that Gerard could see. But now, even that is gone, leaving only the dull white and gray. Without his powers everything is empty, but maybe it’s for the best. 

Apparently there is some shred of empathy left in his mother because she leaves him and Frank alone in the room. But now, Gerard wonders if it really was empathy or rather it was to drive the point home. Frank is gone. He truly is gone. 

“Frank—” he says at last. “Frank, do you recognize me?”  
Frank only watches him, wariness in his eyes before shaking his head. “Sorry,” he mumbles. “I don’t know who you are.”  
“Frank, please,” Gerard is begging at this point. “I know you do. Please. I’m so sorry, I never meant to hurt you. Frank, please.”  
“Stop saying that!” Frank yells. “I don’t know you.”  
“You do,” Gerard pleads. “Please.”  
“I’m sorry. I don’t know who you are. And we sure as hell have never met before.”   
“Who are you?” Gerard asks.   
Frank pauses for a moment, staring at him. “Excuse you?”  
“Who are you?”  
Frank looks at him, his brows furrowed before shaking his head.   
“You can tell me. So what if we never met before?” Gerard holds out his hand, trying to pretend that his heart is not breaking inside. “I’m Gerard. What’s your name?”  
Frank ignores Gerard’s outstretched hand. “M-74.”  
“Your real name.”  
“It is my name.” Frank looks genuinely confused, the sight of it making bile rise in Gerard’s throat.  
“Do you really not remember anything?”  
Frank shakes his head. “I don’t know what you mean,” he says.   
“We escaped. To the outside world. Don’t you remember?”  
“The outside world?” Frank looks confused at the notion. “No, that’s not possible.”  
“Yes,” Gerard says. “We escaped. And it was amazing, Frank. We were free. Do you remember it at all? Do you remember my brother, Mikey? My friend, Ray? It was the first time I felt alive in so long, Frankie. And you were there. I know you think you weren’t, but you were there. And we were together.”  
Frank shakes his head. “No,” he mutters.   
“I’m so sorry,” Gerard says. “I’m really sorry. It’s all my fault, you know. And I want to fix it, but I can’t. I’m a terrible person, Frank, I’m terrible to you.”  
Frank hesitates, then shakes his head again. “No,” he mutters, more to himself than Gerard. “No, that doesn’t line up. That doesn't make sense, it can’t.”

“I think that’s enough.” Gerard glances up to see his mother standing in the doorframe. “M-74, come.”  
He desperately wants to reach over and tug Frank back over to him as Frank nods, obeying the command in a heartbeat. But Gerard doesn’t, feeling the watchful stare of his mother burning into him. He can only watch helplessly as Frank disappears and his mother closes the door to his room. 

“This is why we need to keep you here.”  
“Don’t use this as an excuse,” Gerard spits.   
“You’re dangerous. You’ve proved that today, hurting your friend.”  
“No,” Gerard mutters.  
“You’ve killed people, Gerard,” she says, eerily matter of factly. “How many? Ten? Eleven? More than that?”  
“Stop it,” Gerard mutters.   
“How long before you kill someone you care about?” She continues.   
“Shut up.”   
“What if you hurt Frank again? You’ve already hurt him. It’s your fault you know. You don’t have anyone to blame except for yourself. What if you kill him?”  
“I won’t,” Gerard hisses out through gritted teeth.   
“That’s why you were sent here. That’s why I left. So you don’t have to worry about hurting people anymore. We’re going to fix you.”  
“Fix me? There isn’t a way.”  
“Not yet, but we are almost there. The research all of you have participated in has been helpful. We’ve almost narrowed it down.”  
“It still doesn’t explain why you left.”  
His mother shakes her head. “Gerard,” she says. “Sometimes we do things but we don’t exactly know why. I couldn’t have you knowing that I was working with this, until now.”  
“Why is now any different?”  
“Because we managed to suppress powers.”  
Gerard shakes his head. “How?”  
“It’s too complicated to explain.”  
“Try me.”  
His mother sighs again. “It neutralizes the anomalies in your bodies. The Afflicted, from what we know, are practically human, just a bit different. The reason that they, you, have powers is because of these small differences. For some of you, it’s in your cells, for others its in your brains and the connections between synapses. That’s why it is so difficult to categorize you. The first step was—”  
“The Prototypes. Tracking the anomalies.”  
“Yes,” his mother nods.  
“The ones that I destroyed,” Gerard says, with a hint of smugness.  
His mother glares at him disapprovingly. “You may have,” she says. “But it’s futile to resist. We have managed to suppress the powers. Your own is an example of that. The next thing is a cure.”  
“That’s not possible,” Gerard says immediately. “We can’t be fixed.”  
“It’s only not possible because you convinced yourself that it wasn’t,” she says. “Everything is possible, especially once a mind is put to it. You should know better than anyone else. Minds are a terribly complex and powerful thing. Sheer willpower can override others even when it seems impossible. The first step is for you to believe that you can be cured.”  
“I don’t need to—”  
“Think about all the others you can hurt with your powers,” she says softly. “Think about what you did to your brother. What you did to Frank—”  
“Don’t.”  
“With these powers of yours, you are dangerous. You hurt people. If we cure you, you can be normal again. You can have a life, Gerard. Don’t you want that?”

Gerard stares at her, his mind whirling. She’s right, isn’t she? He is dangerous, he’s known that all along. It’s because of him that Frank is gone, it’s because of him that people are dead. He really is a monster. The world would be better off without his powers and now he’s being offered the chance to get rid of them once and for all. 

A normal life. A few months ago, Gerard would have scoffed at the idea. But now, he’s not so certain. After seeing how desperately Frank wanted to live a normal life, maybe this is the best thing. If not for himself, he could get this for Frank. A new beginning for Frank, a new life. Frank could be happy again. 

“What do you need?”  
“We need you,” she says. “We need your help. We can’t do this without you, Gerard.”  
Gerard takes a deep breath. “Okay,” he answers softly. “I’ll help you.”


	79. You’re The Broken Glass In The Morning Light

#### M̵̷̸̷̶̵̵-̴̵̵̶̸̶̴7̴̸̵̸̴̶̸4

Frank, Mikey, and Ray had known one another for as long as Frank could remember. Ray was Mikey’s older brother and Frank and Ray had been friends since they were children. After Frank’s parents had died, he had moved in with Ray and Mikey and the three of them had lived there ever since. They were happy, just the three of them, living a good life. A normal life. Everything was good and normal. 

Then Frank found out that he was Afflicted. 

He knew what being Afflicted was, knew how bad it was. But he hadn’t wanted to go to the Place even though it was the best thing for him to do so. Frank resisted, trying to evade the solution and the fix. He thought that he would be able to hide from the Fictaliy, but of course that wasn’t possible. 

But he still tried, to no avail. The Fictaliy had caught him, those beasts that were intent on hunting him down. Frank had tried to hide, but nothing worked. The Fictaliy had found them. Like he always knew they would. That’s what the Place was for, to protect him from the Fictaliy. 

Frank still remembered the day. He had been expecting an attack for some time. He, Ray, and Mikey were waiting in the apartment when there was a pounding on the door. Frank had held his hands out, ready to use his abilities, though he knew it was wrong. The Fictaliy preyed on the abilities of the Afflicted, it was the only reason that the Fictaliy existed: because they wanted the powers of people like him. 

Then the Fictaily broke in, the dark color of the beasts and their harsh, piercing noises. Gunshots, Frank now realizes. He doesn’t quite know how, but he knows that the Place and the Doctor saved him. But for some reason, Frank thought he saw a tree, a meadow washed in silver. But there was another boy there. There— 

There is nothing else. Then Frank was taken here, to the place. And everything was good. Everything was pure, white. Clean. Life was simple and everything made sense. The soft colors. The Doctor and her soft voices. The simple commands, and he obeyed. The Place kept him safe. Everything was simple; everything was the same. 

Until the boy appeared. 

Bright green eyes, so different from the muted blues, whites, blacks, and grays. A spark of color, color that M-74 had never seen before, or had he? The boy looked so familiar, but M-74 had never seen him before. There was something about him that was different, so different from anything else M-74 had ever seen. And he wanted more of it. 

And the name. He kept calling M-74 something, something different. Frank. The name sounded so foreign when M-74 repeated it to himself. Though he knew he shouldn’t have. He did anyway, a strange work of rebellion igniting inside of him. It felt good and it felt natural. Yet strange because he had never heard it before. He knew that he hadn’t. 

The boy’s name is Gerard. 

He now knows what the word he has been repeating to himself is. It’s a name. The name of someone he feels like he should recognize, but doesn’t. It doesn’t make sense, it’s like a part of him is missing. 

But why?

It makes no sense. He has never met this boy before. How does he know his name? M-74 was certain that he would have remembered if he met the boy. There was no way he couldn’t have, not with the pull he felt toward the stranger. 

Something is missing. The uncomfortable feeling is back. Something is missing. There is a hole where something should have been. When he tries to think about it, his head hurts. But he doesn’t want to give up. He has to figure it out somehow, it all has to make sense one way or another. 

Escape. He had seen the outside world. That’s what the boy said, and M-74 trusts him. He doesn’t know why but he knows that the boy is right. There is, or at least was something beyond the Place. Something where the boy was, where his dreams were. Something that was taken from him. Why couldn’t he remember it?

“Do I know him?” The words feel clumsy in his mouth.  
The Doctor shakes her head. “No,” she responds.  
“But I know him,” he insists. He doesn’t quite know why he’s saying this. He doesn’t know the boy, but somehow, he does. “I know him.”  
“How?” The Doctor looks curiously at him. “M-74, how?”  
His name suddenly sounds weird to his ears. “I don’t know. It was from before.”  
“Before what?”  
“With Ray and Mikey.”

The Doctor freezes at the names, her hand stilling over the clipboard. “Who?”  
“My friends,” he says, knowing something is wrong. “Weren’t they?”  
The Doctor looks down at him before nodding slowly. “There was an accident and you were hurt. Pretty badly too. We saved you and brought you here.”  
“But the boy. Who was he? Do I know him? I do, don’t I?”  
“You do. He was the one who hurt you.”

M-74 nods, satisfied. It all makes sense now. He was attacked by the Fictaliy, along with Ray and Mikey though he was the only survivor. He knows Gerard because Gerard hurt him.

But why does that feel wrong?


	80. It Gives The Weak Flight, It Gives The Blind Sight

#### Gerard

It’s cold inside his room. Gerard shivers, rocking back and forth. If it’s to keep himself warm or to keep himself sane, he’s not certain. Ever since his conversation with his mother when he agreed to help, no one has come to see him. 

Sometimes, he talks to Frank. Even though without his powers, he knows that Frank can’t hear him, Gerard pretends. He pretends that Frank is with him, pretends that Frank is still there, that he’s still Frank. He imagines Frank’s responses. If he closes his eyes and dreams hard enough, he can pretend that they are still in the apartment, with Ray and Mikey, pretend that everything is okay. It keeps him sane, or at least partially. 

Mostly he just agonizes about what to do, wallowing in his own self guilt. It’s all his fault, all his fault that Frank is gone, all his fault that this even is happening. Gerard is dangerous, he knows his mother is right about that. He wiped Mikey’s memories, then unintentionally did the same to Frank. 

Maybe it’s better that he doesn’t have his powers now. Maybe it’s better this way. 

But that would mean that Frank is lost to him forever. 

_Minds are a terribly complex and powerful thing. Sheer willpower can override others even when it seems impossible._

Maybe he can convince Frank that it is all a lie. But Gerard doubts it. He doubts everything at this point. There really isn’t any hope of escape anymore. They barely did it the first time around and then, Gerard had his powers and he had Frank with him. Now, he has nothing. He feels completely at lost. For the first time, he really has no hope. 

Gerard sits up when his door creaks open, squinting into the bright light. Two figures enter, his mother and a guard. 

“How are you, Gerard?” His mother speaks first.  
“What do you want?” His voice echoes through the room, cold and empty.  
She sighs. “We need to do a few tests.”  
“On what?”  
“We just want to see how something will affect your powers. We need to test the limits of your powers.”  
“Okay,” Gerard sighs. “What do you need me to do?”  
“Come with us.”  
“On one condition,” Gerard says.  
“What do you want?” she asks.  
“Let me see Frank.” He stares at her. “Please. Just for a few minutes. I have to know that he’s okay.”  
His mother hesitates, then nods. “Come with me.”

He doesn’t know what else to do, so he does. She leads him down the hallway, up the flight of stairs in the back.  
“How do you suppress our powers?” Gerard asks at last, trying to break to tense silence between them.  
His mother sighs. “It’s complicated. You must know that there are others like you.”  
Gerard nods slowly. He and Frank are the only ones that he knows of, but he knows that there must be more.  
“Well, we have one that can suppress abilities. It’s a work in progress, but it’s process to a cure.”  
“A cure?” Gerard echoes. “Isn’t the suppressor enough?” he motions to the plastic wrapped around his wrist.  
“It’s only temporary,” she says. “We have to replace it every so often. A cure would be permanent.”  
“And you found one?”  
His mother smiles. “We’re close, Gerard. Our research has paid off. We almost have a cure for you.”

She stops so abruptly that Gerard almost runs into her. He hears the jangle of keys as she unlocks the door, holding it open for him. 

The room is exactly the same as the one that he had been kept in, white walls surrounding him on all four sides. There’s a bed against the far wall, on it, the sleeping figure of Frank. 

Gerard kneels down next to him, brushing the dark hair away from Frank’s face. Frank doesn’t stir, even as Gerard rests two fingers against his neck, feeling a weak, but steady pulse. He looks peaceful as he sleeps, no trace of worry or pain on his face. 

“Hey,” he whispers, knowing Frank can’t hear him. “Hey, baby. I’m going to get us out of here. Just hold on, okay? I love you.”

“He’s sedated right now,” his mother says softly behind him.  
“Why?”  
“Just to make sure he doesn’t hurt himself or anyone.”  
“That makes me feel so much better,” Gerard snorts.  
“It’s necessary, I promise you. Do you trust me, Gerard?”  
“I don’t think I can anymore,” Gerard says.  
“How many times do you need me to apologize? I did what I needed to.”  
“Apologies aren’t enough sometimes,” Gerard spits.  
“Are you going to help us or not? If not, we can always use Frank.”  
“I will. What do you need me to do?” Gerard answers quickly.  
“Come on.”

His mother takes him to another room on the same floor, this one with the walls painted white. She sits him down in a chair in the center of the room.  
“Just breathe,” she tells him.  
“Okay,” Gerard mutters. That’s not ominous at all.  
She nods at a guard, who moves forward, unwrapping the thin plastic from around his wrist. 

Gerard lets out a gasp as his powers rush back into his mind, familiar voices and colors lighting up the room. How did he ever think that this was bad? It’s beautiful, that’s what it is, his powers are beautiful. Why did he ever think that he should be cured? His powers whirl around him, comfortable and familiar. _We’re here,_ they whisper. Gerard drinks in his own strength, his powers flying around him. _I don’t need a cure._

“Actually, I don’t think—” Gerard starts.  
His mother returns with a syringe full of clear liquid.  
“Close your eyes. We are just going to see if this works. Tell us if you feel anything, okay?”  
“I think—”  
“Remember why you are doing this.” Right, for Frank. For a normal life. Gerard nods, squeezing his eyes shut, forcing himself to take deep breaths. He feels a slight prick of pain and the sensation of something warm sliding through his veins. 

“Anything?” his mother asks.

Gerard shakes his head, then lets out a cry of pain as images flash through his mind. They make absolutely no sense, pressure burning around his skull. The images flash faster and faster as they swirl around him, his powers faltering in his mind until everything goes dark.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> K: my cornflakes are telling me that this is your elbow  
> Me: it's not my elbow, i stole it from someone else.  
> K: are you suggesting that elbows migrate?  
> me: (falls off the couch) ow, i hit my knees.  
> K: wait, can knees migrate?  
> Me: back to our regularly scheduled programming
> 
> People need to stop taking skin!!! i mean, just leave it on the dead bodies


	81. Love Is The Red, The Rose On Your Coffin Door

#### F̷̵̸̷̸̶̴̴̵̷̴̶̸̵̸r̴̸̶̶̸̷̵̸̵̵̴̶̴̴̸a̴̶̵̶̵̶̴̵̶̴̷̶̷̷̶n̸̵̸̵̴̸̵̴̷̵̸̶̴̶̸k̶̴̵̸̴̸̸̵̶̶̷̴̵̴̴ 

_He was the one who hurt you._

~~Frank, Mikey, and Ray had known one another for as long as Frank could remember. Ray was Mikey’s older brother and Frank and Ray had been friends since they were children. After Frank’s parents had died, he had moved in with Ray and Mikey and the three of them had lived there ever since.~~

Frank, Mikey, and Ray had known one another for as long as Frank could remember. Ray was Mikey’s older brother and they had all been friends since they were children. After Frank’s parents had died, he moved in with Ray and Mikey. They had met Gerard later when he stumbled into the apartment, covered in blood. The four of them had lived together ever since. 

Then Frank found out that he was Afflicted. 

He knew that it was bad, of course. Being Afflicted was dangerous, not to mention the threat of the Fictaliy. But Frank had refused to go to the Place, even though he knew that it was the only place that could save him. He thought he would be able to hide from the Fictaliy, and he had almost managed to. 

_He was the one who hurt you._

They had been safe. They almost managed to evade the Fictaliy. Frank thought it was going to work. They were okay for a long time, they had been hidden for a long time. But the Fictaliy always came, there was no stopping them. They were intent on their prey, intent on finding him. 

It was late afternoon when Frank heard a knock on the door.  
Ray froze in what he was doing. “What was that?” he asked.   
“We weren’t expecting anyone,” Mikey answers. “Should I get it?”  
Gerard nods. “Answer it.”  
“Wait,” Frank says, but it’s too late. Mikey has already flung open the door, revealing the dark shapes in the hallway. 

The Fictaliy pour in through the door, snarling, mouths frothing with spit. Glowing red eyes, dark colors, the piercing noises they made. The wall crumbled before them, glass exploding across the apartment as they charged forward.  
“We have to go!” Frank yelled, backing away, but someone stopped him, hands holding him back. He spun around and saw Gerard, standing behind him, face impassive as he held Frank there, Gerard’s fingers digging into Frank’s wrists.   
“What did you do?” Frank shouted. “Did you call them?”  
Gerard shook his head, his eyes filling with tears. “I’m sorry,” he said. “It was necessary. I had to.”

Frank was grabbed roughly, dragged out the door. The beasts loomed over him, dark uniforms, bright white lights shining down on him. Frank could smell the scent of grass and the metallic tang of blood. There was a tree and a meadow bathed in moonlight, stars in the darkness, and Gerard— 

The Doctor was there all of a sudden, in a rush of pure white. She saved him, she saved everyone from the Fictaliy. Frank was brought to the place where there was only peace now. 

This is how it made sense. It all fell into place this way. The boy, the newcomer had betrayed him. Gerard had betrayed him to the Fictaliy. He had hurt Frank, hurt Ray and Mikey. The Fictaliy had broken in and attacked them. The Place and the Doctor had saved him and brought him here. Gerard was captured too and—

Frank blinked all of a sudden. He was standing in the apartment, but the walls were intact, no sign of a scuffle before. He glanced around himself, confused.

A hand touched his shoulder, making him yelp in surprise and spin around.   
Mikey was standing behind him, staring at him. “Frank, what are you doing?”  
“What do you mean?” Frank asked, confused. “Where is Gerard? The Fictaliy came and they attacked us. Are you okay? The Doctor can help you if you were injured.”  
“Frank.” Mikey stared at him. “You need to listen to me. This didn’t happen this way.”


	82. Gaze Into Her Killing Jar

#### Gerard

It’s the same thing every day. Gerard breathes through the torture and the images, focusing in his mind on Frank. That’s who he is doing this for. He’s going to find a cure for Frank. Frank wanted so desperately to be normal, to have a normal life. And Gerard can give that to him. Maybe he can’t get Frank back, but at least he can make Frank happy. That’s really all that matters. 

Secretly, he loves the rush his power gives him every time his mother takes off the plastic. He loves. Every time his powers come back, it’s like a rush, a thrill. The use of his powers after not having them for so long is addicting. He finds that he’s craving it more and more, the rush of power after the silences in between. 

Gerard falls into the steady rhythm, doing whatever the hell his mother and her associates want him to do every day. Each day leaves him worn out and exhausted, having used his powers more than ever before in his life, even more than the first time he was locked in the Facility. 

When he’s alone, he tries to think about freedom. The life, the chances that he was given, for that brief snapshot of time. When everything was good and everything was happy and he was alive. Frank was there, Ray and Mikey. Gerard hadn’t known what was waiting for him just around the corner. 

He knows that they draw close to a cure, that his time with his powers grows shorter and shorter. As he lies awake in his room, he can hear the powers whispering in his mind, begging him not to leave them. 

_We’ve done nothing but help you, Gerard,_ they plead. _You need us, you’ve always needed us. Don’t let her take us away. She’s done nothing to hurt you. Why do you trust her? Your powers have always helped you. We’ve never let you down. All the minds that you’ve touched, all the memories you’ve seen, all the control you have, you are going to let that all go? For nothing?_

He knows that. But Gerard also knows the people that he’s hurt. He wiped Mikey’s memories, wiped Frank’s memories. He hurt both of them. He’s hurt so many people. 

_Frank’s better off without you. He’s happier this way. He will be happy once he’s away. You don’t need him, Gerard. You just need us. Together, we can conquer the world._

Gerard has killed so many people. Names, ghosts that will haunt him forever. It’s all his fault that those people would never see the light of day. They were innocent, just guards doing their jobs. They didn’t ask for Gerard to kill them. What prioritized his life or his friends’ lives over theirs?

_They tried to kill you first. Gerard, they would have killed Frank and Mikey and Ray. Your friends? Maybe you killed them, but you protected your friends. We protected your friends. Without your powers, all of you would be dead before then._

He still hurt Frank. That’s the one part of this that Gerard knows he can’t get over. He wiped Frank’s memory. 

_Did you? Did you hurt him? He’s happier this way, isn’t he? He seems happy here. He will get a cure and he will be okay. This is what he wanted. Face it. You need your powers, Gerard. You need it. You need us._

“Just a few more days,” his mother tells him the next day.   
“Until what?” Gerard snaps out of his daze.   
“Until we get the cure. We can rid you of this,” she says, her eyes gleaming. 

Rid of this? Rid of his powers? Gerard can’t imagine a world like that. His powers whisper in his mind as they swirl around him, colors glowing around him, the hints of minds that he brushes against. How could he ever want to be rid of this? Rid of the beauty?  
“I don’t want to be cured,” Gerard says.   
His mother stops what she’s doing. “What do you mean? We’re almost there.”  
“I mean, I don’t want to be cured. It’s not a bad thing, these powers. They’re a part of who I am.”  
“Have you forgotten the people you’ve hurt?” she asks. “The people you’ve killed? Frank?”  
“I’m doing it for Frank,” Gerard argues. “He wants the cure, I can get it for him. I don’t want it though.”  
“Having mind powers is dangerous, Gerard. More dangerous than most others.”  
“It’s a part of who I am. You can’t just take it away. It’s my choice. My powers are a part of who I am. I should be the one who decides whether or not to take them away.”  
“Do I have to remind you of people that you killed?” his mother shouts. “You have to do this, Gerard. It’s not a choice for you at this point. It’s an addiction, that’s what it is. To your abilities, to the power it gives you. You hurt people, you’ve hurt multiple people. You’re powerful, Gerard, too powerful for yourself to control. It controls you instead, haven’t you realized?”  
“It’s mine,” Gerard argues. “A cure is my choice to take. My powers are a part of me. You’ve taken away every other choice of mine, at least let me keep this one.”

His mother sighs, glancing at another one of the associates and nodding. He hands her a needle.  
“We’ll talk about it later,” she says. “Okay? Right now, let’s just focus on the cure for Frank.”  
Gerard nods. “Fine.”  
“Ready?” his mother asks. Gerard closes his eyes, feeling the familiar prick of a needle and cold sliding through his veins. 

It’s worse this time. He lets out a scream as images flash through his mind that make no sense. He struggles to move, but he can’t as sharp pain burns through his skull. A band of pressure tightens around his skull as he lets out another scream, tears prickling in the corner of his eyes. It hurts, it hurts so much. The images whirl faster and faster through his mind as burning pain digs through his mind. Gerard barely registers the fact that he has fallen as everything around him fades to black.


	83. Stay Out Of The Light

#### F̷̵̸̷̸̶̴̴̵̷̴̶̸̵̸r̴̸̶̶̸̷̵̸̵̵̴̶̴̴̸a̴̶̵̶̵̶̴̵̶̴̷̶̷̷̶n̸̵̸̵̴̸̵̴̷̵̸̶̴̶̸k̶̴̵̸̴̸̸̵̶̶̷̴̵̴̴ 

_He was the one who hurt you._

~~This is how it made sense. It all fell into place this way. Gerard had betrayed him to the Fictaliy. The Fictaliy had broken in and attacked them. The Place and the Doctor had saved him and brought him here. Now there was only peaceful white and calm.~~

That didn’t happen. Of course, that didn’t happen, it made no sense. It didn’t make sense that way.

Frank, Mikey, and Ray had known one another for as long as Frank could remember. Ray was Mikey’s older brother and they had all been friends since they were children. After Frank’s parents had died, he moved in with Ray and Mikey. They had met Gerard later when he stumbled into the apartment, covered in blood. The four of them had lived together ever since. 

It was late afternoon when Frank returned home from school. He unlocked the door like he always did, dropping his backpack beside the door.   
“Ray? Mikey? Gerard?” he called. “Anyone home?”  
Frank made his way into the living room, stopping short when he saw what was there. He stared at the room in horror, a scream bubbling up to his lips. 

Everyone was dead. Everyone except for Gerard.

The knife gleamed in Gerard’s hand. He stood over the bodies of Mikey and Ray, a hood pulled over his face, illuminated by the orange light of the setting sun. Scarlet blood pooled beneath him on the carpet, splattered across his face and clothing, the blade glinting with it. 

“What the fuck?” Frank stumbled backward.   
Gerard looked up at him, the hood falling back to reveal his dark eyes. “Hello, Frank.”

He was one of them, one of the Fictaliy. This is how it made sense. Gerard did hurt him. He was part of the Fictaliy. He had come to Mikey, Frank, and Ray, just to get to Frank because Frank was Afflicted. It was because of Gerard that Mikey and Ray were gone. It was because Gerard was part of the Fictaliy. It made sense this way. Everything fell into place. This was how it all happened.

Gerard took a step toward him. “I’m sorry,” he said, his voice trembling. “It had to be done.”  
“Why?” Frank asked. “Why them? You wanted me, right? You wanted to hurt me.”  
“I do,” Gerard whispered. “I do want you, Frank. I’ve always wanted you.” The knife blade glints in the light as Frank took a step backward. “It won’t be long,” Gerard said. “Try not to struggle.”

Frank’s back hit the wall as Gerard came closer to him, the knife blade hovering over Frank’s face. He leaned back, his head pressing against the wall as Gerard ran the tip of the blade under Frank’s chin, tilting his head up. The metal is cold against his skin as Gerard leans closer, his breath warm against Frank’s cheek.   
“I am sorry,” Gerard whispered. “Frankie, I’m sorry.”

The tip of the blade pressed against his throat and Frank closed his eyes. This is how he almost died. All of a sudden, the Doctor burst into the room. Gerard stumbled back, dragged by a team of guards, the knife lying abandoned at Frank’s feet.   
“Frank, come with me,” The Doctor said, turning to him. “We can keep you safe, we can fix you.”  
“Frank!” Gerard struggled as he was dragged away, calling out to him. “Don’t let them take me! You don’t understand, its not—”  
“He’s lying,” the Doctor said. “You will be safe if you come with me. We can fix you. We can keep you safe.”  
“Okay,” Frank said. He moved to go with the Doctor, ready for her to take him to the Place, but a hand on his arm stopped him.   
Mikey stood behind him, unscathed and alive. “This never happened either,” he said. “Frank, Gerard never hurt you.”


	84. Drop The Dagger And Lather The Blood On Your Hands

#### Gerard

He doesn’t so much wake up as slowly surface through the groggy gray haze of pain. Everything hurts. Every nerve in his body is on fire as he blinks, trying to stay awake through the pain. Worst of all, there is the acute sense of something being wrong. Something to do with the images flashing through his mind, the images so familiar yet strange. He did something wrong, something went horribly wrong because of him, but Gerard has no clue what. His powers are screaming in his mind, but he can’t make out about what. Just that something is horribly, terribly wrong. 

“Don’t try to move.” Something cold presses against his forehead. A wet towel.   
“What happened?” he croaks out. Gerard tries to sit up and fails  
“You passed out. This wasn’t supposed to happen.”  
Gerard coughs as he pushes himself up, his head spinning as he does so. Pain digs in through his skull and he has to force himself to take a deep breath to clear his head. Exhaustion sinks through him. Gerard reaches up, the metallic tang of blood filling the air. He’s sitting on the floor of the white room, his mother hovering over him, a worried expression on her face. 

“How do you feel?” she asks.   
“Terrible,” Gerard wheezes. “I feel like I’ve been hit by a truck.” He coughs, blood splattering across his hand. That’s probably not good. “What happened?”  
“It was supposed to suppress your powers. I think it manipulated them in a way that we didn’t mean for it to—” A guard approaches hurriedly from the doorway, tapping on Gerard’s mother’s shoulder.  
“Doctor Way,” the guard says urgently.  
“Not now,” his mother waves him off.   
“You’ll want to know—”  
“What is it?” his mother snaps.   
“It’s the other one.”

 _The other one._ Gerard is on his feet in an instant, lunging out the door. His legs aren’t working properly, but he manages somehow, stumbling down the hallway to Frank’s door. He was right. Something is desperately and terribly wrong, he knows it. 

Two guards are holding Frank down on the floor from where he’s struggling, thrashing wildly. From one glance, Gerard can tell that something is really, really wrong. Frank’s not quite awake, or at least not fully conscious, his pupils blown out as he writhes. A guard grabs Gerard before he can move into the room and toward Frank. 

“What did you do to him?” Gerard yells, fighting to get away. “Let me go!”  
His mother shoves past him, kneeling on the floor and pulling out some equipment. Gerard can’t quite catch what she says, but he can tell that it’s not good.   
“What’s going on? What did you do?” Gerard struggles against the guard holding him back. “I need to get to him.”  
“We didn’t do anything,” his mother answers. “It’s all you.” She nods and the guard lets him go. Gerard stumbles forward, kneeling beside Frank, taking the place of one of the guards. 

Gerard braces his hands on Frank’s shoulders. Frank seems to respond to his touch, his movements slowing slightly, his eyelids fluttering. Gerard pulls Frank into his lap, cradling his small body, trying to restrain him and keep him comfortable. He can feel Frank’s racing heartbeat and shallow breathing.  
“Frank,” he says. “Frankie, stop. It’s me, please wake up.”  
There’s a thin trail of blood coming from Frank’s nose, his skin hot to the touch. He lets out a cry of pain, struggling in Gerard’s grip. Gerard holds him tighter, watching as Frank struggles to take in a breath.   
“What do we do?” Gerard asks, panicked.   
“Come with me,” his mother instructs. 

It’s hard but Gerard manages to lift up a thrashing Frank into his arms, Frank’s head tucked against his chest, his arm draped loosely over Gerard’s shoulder. Frank’s skin is burning up as he struggles, his eyelids fluttering. Gerard cradles him close as he follows his mother down the hallway, cursing every time he jolts Frank. 

Frank lets out a low noise of pain, his eyes screwed shut.   
“Hold on, okay?” Gerard murmurs. “Please, baby. Hold on for me. I’m going to help you.”

His mother leads him through a set of double doors at the end of the hallway. Gerard can hear the faint sound of water lapping as he rounds the corner, seeing the glistening blue water of the pool.   
“What is this for?” Gerard asks.   
“Get him in the water. You need to get him cold.”  
The water is cold but Gerard doesn’t hesitate before diving in. He coughs out a mouthful of salty water, his sodden clothes sticking to his skin. 

Frank stills instantly at the shock of the water, his eyes flying open. He thrashes in Gerard’s arms, his elbow hitting Gerard in the face before his eyes roll up and he goes limp again.Gerard holds Frank in the cold water, keeping him afloat, clutching Frank’s still body to his chest.   
“I’m sorry, I’m so sorry,” Gerard whispers, stroking Frank’s wet hair. “Please wake up. Please wake up. I never meant to hurt you. I’ve hurt you so much. I’m sorry.” He feels Frank’s forehead, relieved that Frank isn’t burning up anymore. 

“How did this happen?” he asks, turning to his mother. “Will he be alright?”  
She nods. “He should be in a few hours.”  
“What happened to him?”  
“You did.”  
Gerard stares at her. “How did I do this? I wasn’t even near him.”  
“Your powers,” she says softly. “I tried to warn you about this. Something went wrong. I don’t know what, we’re trying to figure out what. You lost control and lashed out. I think you messed with something in his mind.”   
“Gerard, this is why we need a cure,” his mother says softly.  
Gerard doesn’t dare look up at her. He keeps his gaze fixed on the unconscious Frank in his arms, Frank’s clothes soaked to his skin, his hair plastered to the sides of his face.   
“I’ll leave you two alone,” she says. 

Gerard watches as she turns and exits, leaving him holding Frank in the cold water of the pool.   
He lost control. It’s all his fault. He did this, he did this to Frank.   
“I’m so sorry,” he tells Frank, though he knows that Frank can’t hear him. “Frankie, I’m so sorry. I didn’t mean to hurt you.” He takes in a shuddering breath. “She’s right, isn’t she? I’m dangerous. I hurt you. I need to be cured.”


	85. Every Star Fall Brought You To Tears Again

#### Gerard

He doesn’t know how much time passes, him standing in the freezing pool, cradling Frank in his arms. When Frank doesn’t show any signs of stirring, Gerard carefully treads water, bringing them to the side of the pool, Frank’s head leaning against his chest. He lifts Frank over the side, grabbing a towel from a bench and kneeling over Frank. 

Frank looks so small, soaking wet and unconscious. Gerard feels another pang of guilt flash through him. He did this. It’s all his fault. He hurt Frank, again. His mother has been right all along. He is dangerous. He needs to be cured. 

Somehow, he manages to at least somewhat dry Frank off, carrying him down the hallway. He runs into no guards, no one to stop him or check to make sure he’s not running off. Normally, it would concern Gerard, but he now knows that his mother isn’t afraid of him escaping. Because Gerard doesn’t want to escape anymore. All he wants to do is escape his powers. 

As much as he wants to bring Frank back to his own room, he carries Frank to Frank’s room, lying Frank as gently as he can on the bed. All he wants to do is be next to Frank. But he can’t until he’s cured. Gerard can’t risk hurting Frank again. 

He gazes at Frank’s sleeping form one more time before turning to go.   
“Don’t leave me,” Frank croaks out. Gerard spins around, kneeling beside the bed.   
“I won’t,” Gerard strokes his hair. “Frankie, I promise I won’t.”  
Frank nods, his eyes still closed.   
“How are you feeling?” Gerard asks quietly. “Are you okay?”  
“Better now that you’re here,” Frank whispers. His hand reaches over, squeezing Gerard’s weakly.   
“I’m so sorry that I hurt you,” Gerard says. “I’m so sorry.”  
“Hurt me?”  
“I’m going to fix it, okay? I’m going to make it better.”  
Frank coughs. “That’s not what he told me.”  
Gerard’s blood runs cold. “He? Who’s he? Do you mean my mother? The Doctor?”  
“She said you hurt me. The Doctor. But he said it wasn’t. He said that you never hurt me.”  
“Who?”  
“Mikey.”

Gerard stumbles backward in shock.   
“What?” he whispers. “What the hell? Frank, do you remember Mikey?”  
“He was your—he was—” Frank shakes his head. “It’s too hard to remember. I don’t know. It’s too confusing.”  
“What do you remember?” Gerard asks softly, his heart pounding in his chest. “Do you remember me?”   
Frank’s brow furrows. “You’re Gerard. That’s what the Doctor said.”  
“Do you remember who you are?”  
Frank shakes his head. “I don’t know. It’s all too confusing. Nothing makes sense. They came after us—I don’t know. It’s all wrong, I keep getting it all wrong. What happened? What really happened?”  
Gerard’s heart twists. “I want to tell you,” he says. “But I think it’s better if I don’t. I can get you a normal life, Frank. I know you don’t remember it, but I know you want it. I hurt you already, Frank. I can’t do it again. It’s dangerous for me to be near you. I might hurt you.”   
“It’s not your fault.”  
“What isn’t?” Gerard asks. “Frank, what do you mean?”  
“You didn’t hurt me. She did.”

~&~&~&~&~

Frank falls asleep a few moments later, leaving Gerard in stunned silence. _You didn’t hurt me. She did._ What does he mean by that? Gerard hurt Frank. What did Frank mean by she? The Doctor? What did Gerard’s mother do?

He casts one more glance back at Frank before shutting the door quietly. Gerard’s footsteps pound down the hallway as he runs, toward the white painted room. He glances around quickly, making sure no one is around before he ducks into the room. 

Gerard has no clue what he’s searching for, but he rummages through the drawers, pulling out bottles and syringes. His fingers brush against something, a small black plastic device, around the length of his thumb. Chills run through him as he recognizes it. It’s not the Prototype, it’s one of the fakes that he and Ray made. Digging around in the drawer more, Gerard pulls out another wrapped bundle. It’s one of the IED’s. He stuffs both into his pocket, unsure if he will need them. Why is his mother keeping all of these here? A bomb, sitting innocuously in a drawer? That’s another question, one that Gerard isn’t searching for the answer for right now. 

He finds the answer a few moments later, his fingers brushing against two bottles in the back. They don’t have his name, but his number, M-07 and Frank’s number, M-74, the sight of them making him sick. 

“Gerard? What are you doing?”  
“What were you giving me?” Gerard asks, spinning around. He holds a bottle in front of him. “Explain.”  
“It’s a stimulant,” his mother explains. “It increases your power, stimulates how they work.”  
“So the reason I was feeling those things, feeling addicted, it was all because of you?”  
“We needed to study how your powers were influenced by it,” his mother explains.   
“Then explain this,” Gerard holds the bottle with Frank’s number out in front of him. “Isoflurane? An anesthetic? What is this?”  
“Gerard, I can explain. We were using it to calm him—”  
“No,” Gerard shakes his head. “Don’t lie to me. He told me the truth. You used it to cause what happened. Drug induced hyperthermia, wasn’t it?” He’s bluffing, but as soon as he sees his mother’s eyes widen, he knows that it’s the truth.   
“Gerard, you can’t possibly believe that—”  
“Because I couldn’t have hurt him. It’s not possible. I can’t manipulate the actual structure of brains, I couldn’t have caused what happened to Frank. That’s not something I can do, cause control temperature or blood flow. I only control memories and thoughts. I’ve never been able to kill someone by just messing with something. I had to control their actions and thoughts.”  
“Gerard—”  
“You made me believe that I hurt him!” Gerard yells. “How could you?”  
“You need to be fixed, Gerard. I knew that I would never be able to make you see that unless you hurt Frank in some way. Killing people didn’t convince you, wiping Mikey’s and Frank’s memories didn’t. I needed you to see how dangerous you could be. I need to make sure that you were going to want to be cured. You are dangerous, don’t you realize?”  
“I can learn to control it.”  
“Can you? I know how persuasive it can be. Power is addictive. I know you want it. You think you can control it, but you can’t. How long before you actually hurt someone you care about? How long before you drive everyone away? Gerard, I care about you. I want to protect you.”  
“I won’t,” Gerard hisses. “I’ll learn to control it, I will. I won’t hurt anyone ever. Don’t you see? After this, I can’t trust you anymore.”  
His mother’s gaze hardens. “You need to be cured and that is final. You aren’t getting out of here until you are.”  
A guard grabs Gerard, his fingernails digging into his skin. Gerard fights back, but he feels the prick of a needle in his arm and the familiar cold feeling sliding through his veins before he is gone.


	86. The Hardest Part Is Letting Go Of Your Dreams

#### F̷̵̸̷̸̶̴̴̵̷̴̶̸̵̸r̴̸̶̶̸̷̵̸̵̵̴̶̴̴̸a̴̶̵̶̵̶̴̵̶̴̷̶̷̷̶n̸̵̸̵̴̸̵̴̷̵̸̶̴̶̸k̶̴̵̸̴̸̸̵̶̶̷̴̵̴̴ 

And just like that everything changed again, the world shifting around him as he blinked. Of course that didn’t happen. Gerard wasn’t one of the Fictaliy, that made no sense. Nothing about that made sense. But what did happen? He still has no clue. 

Frank stared at Mikey, utterly confused.   
“I don’t know what you’re talking about!” Frank shouted. “This makes no sense.”  
“You know what happened,” Mikey insisted. “I know you do.”   
“No, I don’t! I don’t know what you are talking about.”  
“You have to remember,” Mikey says. “You have to. I know you do, just fight it. You want to remember, you need to.”  
“Remember what?” Frank asked.   
“Remember everything. What really happened. Who Gerard is.”  
Frank opened his mouth to protest, then closed it as he realized that he really didn’t know. “Who is he?” He asked at last, his voice hoarse.  
Mikey shook his head. “You have to remember.”  
“How? I’ve never met him before.”   
“Of course you have. You still do, somewhere. He loves you.”  
“I don’t know who he is! Maybe you do, but I surely don’t.”  
“But I am you, Frank,” Mikey said. “At least this version of me is. You don’t remember what happened at least fully. But a part of you still clings onto the memory of Gerard because you love him. You don’t remember enough of it. So you created this false version to try to make sense of it all. You created this image of me and Ray because you didn’t know how to put that in your storyline. I am a part of you, at least a part that remembers Gerard and how he loved you. I am just a figment of your imagination. The real Mikey is still at the apartment with the real Ray, far away from here. And the real Gerard is with you right now. He misses you and he loves you and he wants you desperately to remember.”  
“I can’t,” Frank said. “This isn’t possible. Gerard—I don’t know. That’s not possible. With the Fictaliy—” the word suddenly felt strange as he said it. What Fictaliy? He had never heard that word before. It sounded quite a bit like the—   
“You have to,” Mikey insisted. “I am you, remember? If I remember, so can you. You just have to fight it. Remember, the mind is a terribly complex and powerful thing. Sheer willpower can override things that don’t seem possible. Frank, I just need you to try.”  
“I can’t,” Frank pleaded. “Mikey, I can’t do it.”  
“You have to,” Mikey said as he began to fade away. “Frank, you have to fight it, or it might be too late.”

_It might be too late._

“M-74?” A voice says next to him. He looks up, seeing a familiar face, though not familiar. Who is this? Blond hair framing a gentle face…who? Her name is the—the—the Doctor, of course. It’s the Doctor and he’s in the Place. The Place with the guards in black uniforms…no. The Place with the soft white peace and calm.   
“How are you feeling?” The Doctor asks. “Are you okay now?”  
“Good.” The word feels unfamiliar in his mouth. “I feel fine. What happened? The boy. He was here.”  
“You had an accident. He hurt you again. You’re safe now.”  
He nods. “Okay.” That doesn’t make sense. But he doesn’t know what does.  
“Any more memories?”  
He hesitates. Memories. The strange flashes of images through his minds. Lie. “No,” he says. “No, I haven't.”  
The Doctor nods, apparently satisfied. “We have something for you to do,” the Doctor continues, her voice soft. “Can you do this for us?” She hands him something, something all too familiar. He knows what it is already. _It might be too late. You have to fight it._ A part of him wants to fight, but it’s too hard to. So he nods.   
“He’s going to try to kill you,” she says.   
“I know,” he responds.  
“You know what to do,” the Doctor says. The metal is cold in his hand as he grasps it, giving her a quick nod. He knows what he needs to do.


	87. A Jet Black Hotel Mirror

#### Gerard

When Gerard opens his eyes, he sees himself. 

An exact copy of himself, a hood pulled low over his own face, eyes dark and empty. A sneer slides over the lips of his mirror self when their eyes meet.  
“Who are you?” Gerard asks, his voice echoing in the empty darkness.  
“Who are you?” retorts the double.   
“What do you want? I need to go back,” Gerard says. “I have to.”  
“There’s no way to get back. I am you.”  
Gerard stares at him. “No, you’re not.”  
“But I am,” the double says. “I am you, all the parts of you that you despise. You need me. I protect you, I keep you safe. It’s because of me that you’re powerful. I’m the reason that you are still alive.”  
“You’re my powers?”  
“You mean your abilities?” the double snorts. “No. I’m you. Your abilities are just a tool. They’re like a gun or a knife. Innocent and harmless when lying there. Deadly and dangerous in the right hands.”  
“In your hands.”  
“In my hands, it’s power. It’s strength. I can command anyone to do my will. But for you? You’re a coward. You’re too scared of your own potential.”  
“You hurt Frank. I hurt him because of you,” Gerard spits. “It’s not power, it’s danger.”  
“But you love it.”  
“I don’t,” Gerard hisses. “There is no way that I do.”  
“Why don’t you want to get rid of your powers?” the double asks.  
“Because you keep telling me not to,” Gerard retorts. “It’s hard to decide anything with a voice whispering in your ear.”  
“I am you,” the double laughs. “You keep forgetting that. I am a figment of your imagination, your subconscious, if you must. Whatever I want, you also want.”  
“But I don’t want it.”  
“Is that why you keep hurting people? Is that why you killed them? Is that why you hurt Frank?”  
“I didn’t mean to,” Gerard says desperately. “I lost control, yes. But I can learn to control it. It won’t control me again. I won’t hurt anyone ever again.”   
“Will you? It’s not like this is the first time. Is that why you wiped Mikey’s memories? You wanted to, that’s why.”  
“That’s not true,” Gerard yells. “I did it to protect him. They were going to keep coming after them, use them to find us. I needed to protect him, he’s my little brother, I would do anything for him, even if it meant sacrificing myself. He was going to stop us.”  
“So it was selfish then. You just push people away, Gerard, you will always do that.”  
“But how could I force Mikey to worry about us forever? He lost me once, I didn’t want him to go through the pain of losing me again, of seeing me die. It was easier for him, just easier that way. It was easier if we completely cut him off, made it so no one had proof of us being near him. Maybe it didn’t work completely, but it was the best option if I wanted to give Mikey a somewhat normal life. Don’t you know that? It’s the only thing I want, what Frank wants too. To live a normal life and I could give Mikey that, but not if he had his memories of us. If he did, he would have always been counted as different, a sympathizer, even if he wasn’t one of us. He’d be the boy who cares about the Afflicted and no one would ever trust him, not in this world. Besides, if he had his memories, do you really think that Mikey would have just given up? Let us go and turn ourselves in, let us be hunted? No, he would have come after us, would have tried to protect us and that would have gotten him killed. I almost got him killed before and I can’t have that happen again. He’s my little brother. I can’t let him die. It was the only way I could ensure that he would be truly safe.”  
“No, you did it because you love your powers, you love the way it makes you feel”  
“Stop it. My powers are dangerous. I know that. I’ve always known that, from the very beginning. I don’t love them. Why do you think I was so scared to use them?”  
Your powers aren’t dangerous, Gerard. You want to believe they are because that’s just what Mommy keeps telling you. Face it, you love using your powers and you need them.”  
“I don’t.”  
“You’re still a little boy, you know that? A little boy clinging to Mommy’s words. Following whatever she tells you to do.”  
“Shut up.”  
“When will you learn to think for yourself? She thinks we’re dangerous. She thinks we are better off weak and human. We are powerful. But that doesn’t mean that we are bad. Powerful doesn’t equal bad, Gerard. You’re just too scared. You’d rather be human, wouldn’t you?”  
“There’s nothing wrong with humans. Mikey and Ray are good, they helped us.”  
“There is everything wrong with humans. Maybe they are good, but what about all the rest? Why do you think they are so scared of us? Why do you think they are so desperate for a cure? They don’t like being shown that they are weak. They want power and they want to take it away from you. Why are you letting them win? We can fight back, we can win.”  
“I can’t let you do that,” Gerard says.   
“Without me, you’ll die. You won’t use your powers and they will kill you. They will kill everyone you love, if you don’t kill them all first.”  
“No.” Gerard shakes his head. “I won’t let them. I control my powers, I won’t hurt anyone, but I will not let those I love die. It doesn’t mean I have to kill people to save lives.”  
“You’ll never win.”  
“I will,” Gerard insists. “Because I have to.”

The double laughs, the sound harsh and bitter. “No, you won’t.” 

Before Gerard can blink, the double attacks. Gerard dodges the first blow, but catches the second. His double is fast. Gerard blocks the wave of powers, wincing as pain shoots through his temples. He staggers backward, barely fending off the next one and then the next. How the hell is he supposed to defeat himself?

A blow catches him on the side of his face. Gerard stumbles backward, wincing as burning pain shoots through his shoulder. He clutches his arm, warm blood trickling down his arm. The double stands before him, a knife gleaming in his hand, the sharp end wet with scarlet blood. 

“You’re weak,” the double laughs. “You know you are. You could never defend yourself without me. Without your powers, you are nothing.”  
Gerard shakes his head. “That’s not true.”  
“You are me,” the double says. “I am you. It doesn't matter what you lie to yourself. You can claim you won’t kill, that you won’t hurt. We both know that’s not true. You want to kill them, don’t you? Your mother, the guards, everyone who has hurt you, hurt Frank? You want to kill them. You want to see them bleed out, see their brains splattered across the ground. You want them to suffer for all that you have suffered.”  
Gerard hesitates at that. He can’t lie to himself. He does.  
“Let go,” the double extends his hand down to Gerard. “You know you want to. Let me take control. I can save you all.”  
For a moment, he lets himself feel. He lets himself bask in his own power, in his own strength. He knows it’s wrong. He know it. But he is powerless against it. His power cries for the fire, the burning, the warmth. It cries for the surge of power that giddy feeling, the rush as his abilities hum in his mind, waiting to be used. With his power, he could fix everything. He could leave behind this world, this Gerard. The Gerard who is weak, who is scared. The one who is afraid of hurting everyone, who feels guilt at killing, who is unable to protect the ones that he loves. The double nods in front of him, hand outstretched, eyes gleaming. If he does, Gerard could do anything. He could save Frank, save anyone who is Afflicted after this. He could control the world, make everyone bend to his will, kill anyone he wants. He has the power, he could, it’s all at his fingertips right now. All he has to do is let go. 

But when will it end? Will there ever be an end to it? He could make anyone do anything he wanted, but it wouldn't be him. Gerard already knows this. If he lets go now, he won’t ever stop. He won’t stop until everyone is dead. He won’t be able to if he lets go. Because his mother was right, in that one way. Gerard’s powers are dangerous. But that doesn’t mean he can’t control them.

“No,” Gerard spits. “I am strong. And I will control this. I’m not you, I won’t be a killer. I’m not going to hurt anyone anymore.”  
“You are a killer, Gerard. You can never escape me.”  
“Maybe,” Gerard says. His fingers close around the handle of a knife as he lunges forward, plunging the end into the double’s chest. 

Just like that, it’s over. Gerard lets out a gasp as his mind clears, pain spreading to each of his limbs. But for once he feels awake, wide awake. He isn’t weak, it’s what makes him strong. His powers aren’t evil, not if he has anything to say about it. 

“You need me if you want to survive,” the double coughs. “You have to use your powers to kill. It’s what they were meant for. You can’t escape from this. I will always be a part of you.”  
“No,” Gerard says. “Because I will find another way.” He stabs down with the knife, warm blood flowing over his hands, warm and sticky. The double coughs, twisting before it goes still. 

Gerard stumbles back as the image of himself disappears. He leans back, his hands sticky with blood. It’s over. It’s really over.


	88. I’m Taking Back The Life You Stole

#### Gerard

Gerard falls to his knees, fingers grasping at the cold ground. He blinks, light flooding in around him. He’s still in the white room, where he last remembers he was. Gerard crawls to his feet, wincing as he stands up slowly, clutching the desk for support. Bottles clatter to the ground as he shifts through papers until he finds what he’s looking for. He stuffs his mother’s notebook into his pocket, wincing as his head spins, blood dripping down his face as he coughs.

The bomb sits innocuously in his palm as he attaches it to the wall, taking a deep breath, stumbling back and clutching his head. Time to end it all. He won’t let this place hold him any longer. 

When he looks up, he sees the shocked face of his mother. 

“How—how are you awake?” she stammers. “That anesthetic should have lasted for at least two hours.”  
“Where’s Frank?” Gerard asks instead of answering.   
“Gone. You won’t find him here,” she replies. “He’s far away from here, somewhere that you will never find him.”  
Gerard grits his teeth, scanning her mind. She’s not lying. “Tell me where he is.”  
“If you take the cure, I will.”  
“I will find him, mark my words. You can’t do anything to stop me.”  
“You’ll never do it.”  
“I will,” Gerard vows. “I will search the world for him. I won’t stop until I know that he’s safe.”  
“You need the cure.”  
“You don’t control me anymore,” Gerard says. “I won’t let it control me anymore. It’s over. It’s all over.”  
“It’s not. This is only the beginning,” she replies. “Gerard, listen to me, you will never fully control it. You need this cure. You all do.   
“I don’t,” Gerard yells. “I don’t, can’t you see that? I won. I can control it. I don’t need a cure to change who I am. Maybe it’s dangerous for me, maybe I struggled with it, but it’s still a part of me.”  
“What about Frank? What about what he wanted?”  
Gerard hesitates. “He would understand.”  
“You don’t know that.”  
“If he wants it, then I will get it for him,” Gerard says. “I will find something. But it should be his choice. I can’t take it away or make it for him. And I sure as hell won’t let you do it.”  
“If you ever want to be normal, if you ever want to fit in, to be accepted, you need it. We can help you,” she pleads, holding her hands out to him.   
“Not if I can stop it,” Gerard spits out. “I’m not going to let my people suffer. We are the Afflicted, but we are not broken. We don’t have to be cured, we don’t have to be fixed. Because it is who we are and no one can change that. You know? I used to think it was us that was broken. But now I know that it’s you. All of you who refuse to learn, refuse to change, refuse to even see our side of the story. Maybe you’re the ones who need to be cured.”  
“I can’t change your mind, can I ?” she asks softly. “Gerard, I want what’s best for you.”  
“Then you’ll let us go,” Gerard says. “That’s all I’ve ever wanted. I used to want to be cured, you know. I used to want to because I thought it would make me better. I thought my powers were a terrible thing, I thought that they were evil. But I know that they aren’t anymore. They’re a tool, just like a knife or a gun. It’s the choice of the user to determine what happens next. And it’s up to us, as the Afflicted to use our powers. Not your choice, not any government or cure. If we want our powers gone, we will get rid of them. But if we want to keep them, you can’t take that from us.”  
“What will you do then?” she asks. “Kill me? Kill all of us?”  
Gerard shakes his head. “I’m done with killing. It never got us anywhere, it never achieved anything.” he reaches over, pressing down the fire alarm. “When everyone is out, I’m blowing this place sky high.”

His mother watches him. “What about me? What do you want me to do? This is my life’s work, Gerard. You can’t expect me to turn my back on this. I did it all for you.”  
“Get out of here,” Gerard says softly. “Mom, I can’t kill you. Maybe I hate you for what you’ve done, but you are still my mother.”  
“Gerard, it’s only fair of me to warn you. The suppression won’t wear off for another hour or so.”  
“It’s my life. I’m giving you yours. Go.”

She turns without another word. Gerard waits until he hears her footsteps fade away before reaching for the dial of the bomb, twisting it to the left. It lights up green, a soft ticking sound emitting from it. It’s set. 

He sprints up the flight of stairs, his fingers clenched over the timer. Sixty. Fifty nine. Fifty eight. Gerard spreads his powers out, searching for the traces of minds in the building, but he detects none. He’s the only one left inside. 

Gerard bursts out onto the roof, panting for breath. There’s nowhere to go, he’s trapped, unless he jumps. Gerard grimaces as he glances down at the sloping hill below. Maybe he could make it if he—he glances back at the door again, then at the timer. Forty two. It is now or never. Gerard takes a deep breath, ready to jump when a figure steps out from behind a column.

 _He’s far away from here, somewhere that you will never find him._ It wasn’t a lie, Gerard knows that now. Partially, but only in the sense that he assumed that she meant physically. Because Frank is standing right there, but Gerard already knows that Frank is gone.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> if y'all like horror, y'all should listen to the Magnus Archives


	89. When I’m Gone, You’ll Kill My Enemies

#### F̷̵̸̷̸̶̴̴̵̷̴̶̸̵̸r̴̸̶̶̸̷̵̸̵̵̴̶̴̴̸a̴̶̵̶̵̶̴̵̶̴̷̶̷̷̶n̸̵̸̵̴̸̵̴̷̵̸̶̴̶̸k̶̴̵̸̴̸̸̵̶̶̷̴̵̴̴ 

You know what to do. This is the way to end it. This is how he fixes everything. He does what the Doctor tells him, moving with a purpose. The Doctor has always been right. She has always helped him, never misled him. Then why does he feel sick at the thought, at the touch of the cold metal of the gun in his hands?

_It might be too late. You have to fight it._

Nothing makes sense anymore. He knows that something is wrong, but he doesn’t know what. His mind tells him to listen to the Doctor. She’s right after all. But his heart tells him that it’s wrong. 

_Remember. You have to remember. He’s not your enemy, you know that._

_But I don’t know that,_ he tries to argue. _I don’t know anything. How can I remember someone I’ve never seen before?_

So Frank stood there, in the cold wind on the roof, hearing the faint wail of an alarm far below, gazing at the world around. Was it always this beautiful? He doesn’t remember the last time he was outside. All his memories are white walls and clean clothes, soft voices, Doctors and guards. But there’s something else too, at least there was. 

_Get out of here. Go, far away from here. If you stay, something bad will happen._

_But the Doctor told him what he has to do. His hand clenches onto the gun, checking the cartridge again and again. Gerard—Frank knows that he should remember, but he doesn’t. He can’t._

__You have to._ _

__I can’t,_ he pleads. _I really can’t, there’s nothing there. 

Then he appeared. From the edge of the stairwell with a rush of wind, illuminated by the sunlight. He watched as Gerard ran to the edge of the roof, gazing down at the ground far below. When he moved, Gerard looked up, his eyes widening as he saw Frank.

Gerard is still watching him, even now. Frank shivers at the thought. Gerard, who he—something about him, there was something. He can’t quite remember now, the Doctor’s orders ringing in his ears as he lifts the gun, aiming it at Gerard.

The gun trembles in his grasp, the sleek silver metal cold to the touch. He has to do this. He has to. It’s the only way that—that what? He doesn’t exactly know. All he knows is that he has to do this. 

“Frankie,” Gerard says.   
Something is stopping him from doing it, from pulling the trigger. Frank grits his teeth. _Do it. Do it._ His hands tremble as Frank desperately tries to pull the trigger. Why can’t he do this? He has to, that’s what the Doctor told him. Why can’t he?  
Gerard glances down at his hand again, his eyes narrowing. “I know you don’t remember me,” Gerard says slowly. “But you need to trust me. In thirty seconds—”  
“Don’t move again,” Frank warns. “I’ll shoot.”  
Gerard takes a step forward, his hands raised in front of him. “I’m not going to hurt you,” he pleads. “Frank—”  
“Stop it!” Frank yells. “Stop moving!”  
Gerard takes another step closer to him. “I know you would never hurt me, Frankie.”  
“I have to,” Frank says, the gun trembling in his grasp. He has to, right? “I have to,” he repeats again. “She told me to. I have to.”  
Gerard moves again, closer to Frank. “Frank—”  
“Stop calling me that!” Frank screams. 

In a split second, Gerard moves. Frank takes a step backward, but he’s too late. Gerard dives forward, his arms wrapping around Frank’s waist as they both fall backward, into the open air. The gun goes off, but it’s silenced by the deafening explosion behind them. The building erupts into reds and oranges, shrapnel flying everywhere, glass raining down as they fall. It’s beautiful, the most beautiful thing that Frank thinks he’s ever seen.

Gerard’s grip tightens around his waist and Frank realizes how painfully close they are, pressed up against each other. They pick up speed as they fall, the ground flying toward them. Frank struggles against Gerard’s grip, feeling Gerard’s heartbeat against his own chest. The handle of his knife digs into his back, making him wince. He tries to escape from Gerard’s grip but Gerard only holds him tighter, his fingers tightening around the small of Frank’s back. 

“Stop struggling,” Gerard mumbles, his breath warm against Frank’s neck. He goes lax in Gerard’s grip. Why, he doesn’t know, he just has the instinct to, that he’s safe. Frank grips the fabric of Gerard’s shirt tighter as he closes his eyes, waiting for the impact. 

It knocks the wind out of him, his eyes flying open as the world tumbles head over heels around them. Sand sprays around them as they roll, sticks scraping against his face, pain flaring in his shoulder from where he landed. Debris falls around them, shattered glass and chunks of cement crashing around them, fire singing his face, smoke billowing out into the air above them.

At last, they come to a stop, Frank pushing himself up and off of Gerard. He’s too dizzy to stand though, losing his balance immediately. He feels Gerard’s hand on his waist, steadying him and tries to shove Gerard off. Frank reaches for the gun before he realizes that it’s not there. He must have dropped it on the roof or somewhere in their plummet. 

Why did Gerard save him? If what the Doctor told him was right, Gerard was the one who hurt him. 

_He would never hurt you._ Who told him that? He knows it, more than he knows himself, but why? It’s just an instinct, a whisper in his mind. He knows that Gerard would never hurt him. 

But the Doctor told him that Gerard wanted to kill him. She gave Frank a gun and told him to kill Gerard before Gerard could kill him. She was the one that helped him, that protected him. She said that Gerard hurt him and wants to again. 

Frank doesn’t know which one to trust. 

He stands up slowly, just as Gerard does, their eyes both landing on the gun at Gerard’s belt.


	90. I Will Avenge My Ghost With Every Breath I Take

#### Gerard

Gerard is faster. In one swift movement, he grabs the gun before Frank can. Frank backs off of him slowly, watching Gerard like a caged animal, his hazel eyes wild with fear. 

If he had his powers right now, he could possibly fix Frank’s memory. But Gerard is powerless, for the next hour or more. There’s no way that he can wait that long. He’s going to have to do this the old fashioned way.

“Do it,” Frank says.   
“Do what?” Gerard stares at him, then looks down at the gun in his hand.   
“I’m standing right here,” Frank spreads his hands. “This is what you wanted to do, right? You want to kill me. So do it.”  
Gerard stares at him for a moment longer before he reaches over, unloading the gun and tossing the cartridge behind him. Frank watches him, evidently confused.   
“I’m not going to hurt you,” Gerard says slowly.   
Frank’s brows furrow. “But—” he hesitates. “I know you are going to. You did before.” He looks so confused.   
“I never wanted to hurt you,” Gerard pleads. “Frank, I know you can’t remember, but I promise you that I’ve never wanted to hurt you ever.”  
Frank hesitates again, looking from the gun to Gerard’s face. He winces, his hand flying to the back of his head as if it hurts. He looks so lost, so uncertain that Gerard takes a step forward, hoping to comfort him. But Frank is over his confusion in a second as he tackles Gerard. 

The wind gets knocked out of him as he crashes to the ground. Purple flashes around him, shields springing into existence as Gerard tries to stand, shoved back to the ground in an instant.   
“Frank!” he shouts, dodging as another one appears out of nowhere, narrowly missing his face.   
Frank stands before him, his hands alight with purple sparks. “Fight back,” he yells. “I know you want to. I know you want to hurt me.”  
“I’m not going to fight you,” Gerard says tiredly. “Do what you must.”

He’s met with a knee to the face. Gerard falls backward onto his elbows, wincing as blood runs down his face. He’s thrown back by another purple shield flashing out of nowhere, his shoes skidding in the blood soaked grass. Searing pain races through his upper arm as he rolls, narrowly avoiding a shield that slams down beside him, slicing a deep gash through his skin. Gerard stumbles to his feet, warm blood soaking through his fingers. 

“Fight me!” Frank yells, advancing toward him, a knife gleaming in his hand. “I know you want to.”  
“No,” Gerard shakes his head, holding his ground. “I won’t hurt you, Frank.”

A flash of purple makes him stumble backward, clutching his stomach as he drops to his knees, blood soaking through his shirt. He winces, the burning pain spreading through his abdomen, his hands pressed to the bloody gash. Gerard coughs, the metallic tang of blood filling the air as he spits a mouthful of blood onto the ground. Frank stands before him, his left hand sparking with purple, his right holding the knife. The gleaming blade of a knife is pressed against the side of Gerard’s throat, Frank staring down at him.

Gerard grabs the front of Frank’s shirt, pulling him down with him. He hears Frank let out a yelp as he tumbles forward, landing on top of Gerard. He stares down at Gerard in shock, his green eyes wide, irises glinting with purple, his lip trembling, the knife pressed firmly against Gerard’s throat. 

“I should kill you,” Frank hisses. “I have to.”  
“Then do it,” Gerard whispers, not taking his eyes off of Frank.   
Frank’s hand trembles before he digs the blade in deeper. “I have to,” he repeats. “It’s my duty.”  
“Do it,” Gerard says again, louder. “If you want to kill me, if you need to, do it.”  
When Frank hesitates, Gerard grips his hand, pressing the blade more firmly into his own skin. Frank’s eyes widen with shock as he pulls against Gerard’s grip, but Gerard holds him there.  
“What—” Frank pulls against him again, but Gerard doesn’t let him move.   
“I’m sorry,” Gerard says. “I know you don’t remember and it’s all my fault. I just want you to be alive and safe. If you think you need to do this, do it then. All I want is for you to be happy.”  
Frank stares at him. “You hurt me,” he says slowly. “She said that you would do it again.”  
“I did hurt you,” Gerard says. “And I’m sorry. I never meant to.”  
“It doesn’t matter!” Frank yells. “I have to kill you. _I have to._ ”  
“Do it,” Gerard whispers. “Do it. I’m going to bleed out in the next few minutes anyway, Frank. You won. I’m sorry.”  
“Stop saying that.” Frank presses a hand to his head. “Stop calling me that! That’s not who I am.”  
“It’s who you are. I know who you are, Frankie. We knew each other. We loved each other. Do you remember any of it?”  
“You’ve hurt me so many times! I don’t know who you are and even if I did, I wouldn’t want to be near you. You’re a monster.”  
“I did,” Gerard says softly. His reply must have shocked Frank because he simply stares down at Gerard.  
Gerard takes a deep breath. “Frankie, first time we met, I saved you from those bullies. I thought I’d never see you again until you were brought into my room. We escaped the Facility and ran away. Do you remember that? We drove, switching out cars and licenses plates. I was so cold to you, I didn’t want to get close to you at all. I was so scared of growing close to people because I thought I would lose them. But somehow I couldn’t help myself with you,” Gerard smiles to himself. “And then you got shot and I took you to the hospital. We had our first kiss then. I didn’t know where to go so I brought you to Ray and Mikey’s. God, I was such an idiot. I kept pushing you away, time and time again, but you always forgave me. We danced together, do you remember that? In the apartment. Then we saw my mother and I left again. I’m sorry, Frank, for leaving all those times.” He’s crying now, tears rolling down his cheeks. “And then—the masquerade ball and the bombs and prototypes. And you were so mad at me; I deserved it. We danced together again, you were drunk, I kissed you. Then it all went wrong and I did hurt you again. I hurt you so many times, Frank. I wiped your memories, that night on the hill when we were surrounded by the guards. I thought I killed you. When I woke up here and my mother was there, I realized that I had done something almost as terrible. I took you away, Frank.”  
Frank shakes his head and winces, but he doesn’t respond.  
“I left so many times,” Gerard whispers. His head hurts now, the world spinning around him. “I hurt you and I pushed you away, but you always came back to me, except for this time. I hurt you so many times and you always came back. I’m so sorry. It’s all my fault.”  
Frank is frozen still the entire time, staring down at him. “I—” Frank shakes his head. “I don’t remember—that—did we—”  
“You promised me you’d always be there,” Gerard whispers. “And I can’t blame you for breaking that promise; it’s not your fault. The only person I can blame is me. I love you, Frankie. I always will.”  
“Stop lying to me,” Frank mutters. “It makes no sense. I’ve never—we’ve never met—why can’t I remember? Every time I think about it, my head hurts. It makes no sense. Nothing makes sense.” He looks so lost and suddenly so small, his shoulders hunched, his hazel eyes wide as he stares at Gerard. “I need to know the truth.”

So Gerard kisses him. 

Frank freezes the second Gerard’s lips touch his, but Gerard doesn’t move away. His hand tangles on Frank’s hair, pulling the other boy closer to him. In this moment, he thinks that Frank is the most beautiful thing he’s ever seen. Frank, with his face streaked with blood, dirt, and tears, his hair messed up, covered in sand. 

The knife slips from Frank’s grasp, falling with a thud onto the grass. Within a second, he’s kissing Gerard back, his fingers tangling in Gerard’s hair as he pushes Gerard into the grass. Gerard winces as pain flares in his arm, but he doesn’t care. He’s missed Frank so much, missed him with every part of him. 

“Gee—” Frank gasps. It’s the sound of his nickname that jolts him out of it as Frank pulls away from him, his eyes wide. He climbs up off of Gerard, holding his head in his hands, falling to his knees and crying out as if something pains him.  
“Frankie,” Gerard reaches out to him but Frank moves away, groaning softly. He looks up at Gerard, his eyes blank. “Frank, talk to me.”  
“I—” he stammers, backing away. Gerard tries to push himself up, but fails, wincing in pain. Before he can stop Frank, he’s turning and fleeing into the darkness.


	91. Bury Me In All My Favorite Colors

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Its the final countdown *insert off-key kazoo noises*  
> Five chapters (including this one) until the end!

#### Gerard

The first thing he sees is white. White flooding his vision. Gerard blinks, wincing as he struggles to sit up. He hears the sound of beeping machines and the murmur of soft voices. For a moment, Gerard wonders if it was all a dream. Is he still at the Facility, with his mother and the cure? Gerard shifts, letting out a groan of pain as he pushes himself up, propping himself up against the pillows. 

It’s not the Facility. It’s far too nice to be that. Gerard glances around at the room that he’s in, at the windows letting sunlight stream in, the paintings hanging on the wall, and the glass windows at the end of his room. He’s in a hospital. 

He looks down at himself, at the hospital gown he’s dressed in and at the wires and tubes connected to his arm. Gerard lifts the side of his gown, wincing as he looks at the bandages. Oh, right. His fight with Frank. Gerard reaches up, his fingers brushing against the bandage along the side of his throat. 

Frank. Gerard wonders where he is now. He seemed desperate to get away from Gerard. But he did seem to remember at the last minute. At least Gerard knows that he’s safe, at least somewhat. It will take a while for his mother and the Facility to gather its resources to hunt them down again. In the meantime, they have some peace. 

Gerard glances up when a nurse enters the room.   
“Mr. Way,” he says, nodding. He hands Gerard an envelope. “Per request of your mother. I’ll leave you be.”

_Dear Gerard,_

_I’m so sorry for everything. I wish you the best and a speedy recovery. I can’t tell you much, but I’m disappearing. This is probably the last that you will ever hear from me. Perhaps, one day, we could see each other again._

_Attached is anything you might need. I truly am sorry. I hope you forgive me._

_Love,  
Your mother_

Gerard flips the note over, seeing an address scrawled onto the back. Letting out a sigh, he leans back against his pillows, closing his eyes. He doesn’t know whether to say good riddance or goodbye, so he settles on neither. 

~&~&~&~&~

Gerard winces as he pulls the tubes and wires from his arm. He’s reminded of when he snuck Frank from the hospital, all those months ago. Gerard chuckles quietly to himself as he tugs on a sweatshirt, ducking out of his room. 

Miraculously, the notebook of his mother’s research is still in his pocket, a bit bloodstained, but intact nonetheless. He’s not sure if its meant to be an apology, but it means more to him than the note that she left. She left his future in his hands and is more than he’s ever asked of her.

Gerard’s footsteps echo as he walks through the town. He’s lonely now, so lonely. Frank is gone, there’s been no trace of him since he disappeared. His hometown seems so strange now, so foreign. Gerard pulls his hood up as he walks, pass the familiar parks and buildings. 

He passes by the high school, glancing into the field. A familiar shape runs across it, toward another boy. Mikey. Gerard smiles as he watches his brother run, linking arms with another boy. The two of them move across the field. 

“Hey!” Gerard turns to see Mikey walking toward him.   
“Hi,” Gerard says, his throat closing up. Mikey seems taller now, more mature even though it has only been a few months. “Um, did you want something?”  
“Do I know you?” Mikey asks. “Sorry, I just thought I recognized you for a moment.”  
Gerard stares at him, before slowly shaking his head. “No, sorry, you don’t.”

“Are you happy?” Gerard blurts out all of a sudden.  
Mikey pauses, glancing at him. “Well, yeah,” he says. “I guess so? I’m not quite sure what you mean. I’m happy. I have everything I could ever need.”  
“Is there anything that you are missing?”  
Mikey hesitates, then shakes his head. “No,” he answers. “I’m fine. I’m happy. Why do you ask?”

“Mikey?” A boy is standing a few paces away. “You coming?”  
“Yeah, just a minute, Pete,” Mikey responds. He turns to Gerard. “Is there a reason?”  
Gerard shakes his head. “Just curious.”

“What’s taking so long?” A familiar voice asks. Gerard glances up, a smile splitting across his face as he recognizes the person walking toward him. “Oh my god,” Ray stops in his tracks.  
“Do you know him?” Mikey asks.   
Ray nods. “Old friend. Give me a minute. Can you guys wait in the car? I’ll just be a minute.”  
Mikey shrugs. “Sure.” He moves off without another word. Gerard watches him go, feeling a prick of pain in his heart.

“Hi,” Ray moves toward him, hugging him.   
“How are you?” Gerard asks, wrapping his arms around Ray. “How is Mikey? Is he happy? Are you happy? Is he remembering anything?”  
“We’re fine, he’s doing great. We both are, no he is not,” Ray pulls away. “How are you? How’s—” he glances around.   
Gerard swallows hard.   
“Gerard?” Ray glances at him. “Is—”  
“He’s not dead. He’s just…gone.”   
“I know,” Ray says, startling him.   
Gerard looks up. “What?”  
“I saw him the other day. I thought he was with you though, is he not?”  
“Where?” Gerard asks. “And, no. It’s complicated. He’s…he’s different.”   
“Near his old house,” Ray answers. “Gerard, what happened?”  
Gerard laughs. “That, my friend,” he says. “Is a very long story.”  
“Well, save it for later,” Ray grins. “Because you are going to call me and you are going to tell me what the two of you have been up to. But right now, you need to find your boy and get him back.”  
Gerard can’t help but smile. “Thank you,” he says. “For everything.”  
“You can thank me later. Go get Frankie.”

Gerard heads down the familiar streets, the ones that he walked so often as a kid, growing up. He glances at the corner where he first met Frank, when they were both so much younger. Gerard takes the familiar path, glancing at his old house. A new family is there, laughing and chatting, a little girl sitting on her father’s shoulders. She sees him and waves. Gerard smiles, lifting a hand and waving back before he continues on his way again. 

As he nears Frank’s house, he slows his pace. He glances around the hedges, watching as the door opens. Gerard’s heart skips a beat as he sees Frank exit the house. Frank’s alive, he’s okay. He looks more than okay, smiling and happy as an older woman follows him out.

“Mom, just I’m going out, okay?” Frank calls.   
“Be back soon,” she answers, ruffling his hair. “You just got back, I don’t want you to be alone for too long.”  
Frank rolls his eyes, but hugs her. Gerard smiles at that. He’s still Frank, so much so. “I’m not five,” he groans. “But fine.”

He follows Frank, a few paces behind, watching as Frank waits for the crosswalk. Gerard watches as Frank slips into the cathedral at the edge of town. Gerard waits a few minutes before following, walking through the double doors at the front. 

Frank is knelt before the altar, head bowed in prayer. He spins around when Gerard enters, his eyes going wide, stumbling back. “You,” he says.   
“Me,” Gerard agrees.


	92. Your Life Will Never Be The Same

#### Gerard

“What are you doing here? What do you want?” Frank looks like he’s about to bolt, his hands clenched into fists by his sides.   
“Don’t run,” Gerard says, holding his hands out in front of him. “I’m not going to hurt you.”  
Frank hesitates, taking a tiny step backward, his back hitting the edge of the altar.   
“Are you okay?” That’s really all Gerard wants to know. “Are you safe?”  
Frank glances at him nervously. “Yeah,” he says at last. “I think.”  
“That’s good.”   
“Who are you?” Frank asks. “I’m sorry, I just—”  
“You know who I am,” Gerard says. At least he hopes so. “Do you remember me now, Frank?”  
Frank watches him cautiously. “You’re Gerard,” he says.  
Gerard nods. “I am.”  
“You were there, the day,” Frank hesitates. “The explosion. And—I don’t know. I know who you are. How are you here? Why are you here? What did you have to do with the explosion? What happened to me?”  
“I came to see you,” Gerard says softly. “I just wanted to make sure that you are okay.”  
“You know who I am, don’t you?” Frank asks. “You know me.”  
Gerard stares at him. “Yeah.”  
“Who am I?”  
“How much do you remember?”  
“It’s coming back,” Frank says. “Bits and pieces. How did you know?”  
Gerard shrugs. “I just do.”  
“I remember most things,” Frank explains. “They said I had an accident. I was in a car crash, but that’s not true, right?”  
Gerard shakes his head. “It’s not.”  
“I remember my childhood, growing up. Then things get hazy. I ran away, I think. Something about my powers. Went to live with some people, um, Ray and Mikey. There’s something else too, but I don’t know. It makes no sense to me. There’s just a hole in my memory, something that’s missing.” He looks pleadingly at Gerard. “What is missing?”  
“I saw you with your parents,” Gerard says softly instead of answering the question. “You looked happy.”  
Frank nods. “They were happy to have me back. Uh, I’m not quite sure why I’m back, I don’t remember leaving for any reason, but that’s what they told me. They said that I should settle into a normal life, that I was injured for some reason, that I had an accident. But I’ve been dreaming things and it makes no sense. I remember more each day, but the pieces just don’t fit. I don’t know how I know either Ray or Mikey, I don’t know if I’ve even talked to them before. There’s someone else too. And then I remember the explosion and you were there. But I don’t recognize you—I don’t know why I’m telling you this. I just weirdly feel like I can trust you. I do know you, don’t I?”  
Gerard nods. “Yeah,” he whispers. “Yeah, you do.”  
“I just know,” Frank sighs. “I don’t know how, I don’t know I know anything. I don’t recognize you but somehow I know you. There’s a gap in my memory and for some reason, I know that you belong there.”  
“What else do you know?” Gerard asks, his heart pounding.   
“I know that I love you,” Frank whispers. 

Gerard gapes at him, his heartbeat thrumming in his ears. _Frank knows. He remembers, at least partially._  
“I know it sounds weird,” Frank rambles, running his hand through his hair. “I don’t even know you. But I don’t know that. It’s just that, seeing you, I know it. I sound crazy, don’t I? I think I am going crazy, at least a little bit. I keep seeing memories, memories with someone in them, but I didn’t know who, not until now.”  
“Do you want to know?” Gerard asks. “Do you want to know the whole truth? I can give it to you.”  
“I want to know,” Frank whispers. “Please.”  
“You sure?” Gerard asks, uncertainty overtaking him. “You look happy now. You could live a normal life, Frank, with your parents, with your old life. You don’t need to remember me. I’ll just bring you more pain.”  
“I can’t live knowing there’s a part of me missing,” Frank whispers. “I know you, Gerard. Even if I don’t.” He runs his hand through his hair, frustrated. “I think if I don’t remember, I won’t be able to deal with it. Please, Gerard. There’s just this—this sort of me that I’m missing. I don’t know what it is but I know that there’s a gap there. I just want to know what I’m missing. I don’t know anything, Gee, I don’t even know you. But I know I love you.”

So Gerard kisses him, soft and light. He pulls Frank toward him, Frank’s arms wrapping around his back as Gerard reaches out with his powers, brushing softly against Frank’s mind. He lets the memories tumble through, the days that he treasures so much. It’s like water spilling through a dam, as soon as the first one comes, the memories tumble through. The Facility, their escape. The long journey on the run, the days spent with Ray and Mikey in the apartment. Dancing together in the ballroom. Then finally their capture and Gerard’s mother, the pain that the two of them went through, the explosion and the end, the end of the battle. 

Frank is standing in front of a window, white light streaming through. His back is to Gerard as Gerard nears him.   
“Frank,” he says, his voice echoing strangely in the white room.   
Frank turns to him, his face illuminated by the white light, his hazel eyes glowing.   
“Remember,” Gerard nears him. “Remember everything.” He leans forward, kissing Frank’s forehead gently. “Please.”  
Frank gasps softly. “Gerard—” he says, and then everything floods in.

Frank’s eyes are still closed as Gerard pulls away. He stands still, stone still, his chest barely moving. Gerard reaches over, brushing a lock of hair away from Frank’s face.   
“I love you,” he whispers. “I love you so much, Frankie.”  
Frank’s eyelids flicker slightly as he opens his eyes, gazing at Gerard with the green eyes that Gerard loves so much. “I love you too,” he whispers hoarsely. “Gerard, I love you.”


	93. Return From The Ashes You Call

#### Gerard

Gerard hugs Frank tightly, pulling him close and resting his head on the top of Frank’s. Frank turns his head, pressing his face into Gerard’s sweater with a soft sigh. “Frank,” Gerard whispers. “Do you remember now?”  
“I remember,” Frank says, pulling away. “I remember everything.” He glances up at Gerard, distraught. “What didn’t you fight back? Why?”  
“Frank—” Gerard reaches out to him. “I’m so sorry.”  
“Why do you have such a fucking martyr complex? Why would you fucking do that?” Frank yells. “I could have killed you.”  
“Like you could have,” Gerard teases. He sees Frank’s expression and takes a step forward. “I know you wouldn’t have.”  
“You can’t know that,” Frank argues, but he doesn’t move away as Gerard nears him. “You—I might have—”  
“Shh,” Gerard whispers, reaching over and cupping Frank’s face in his hands. Frank’s eyes flutter shut for a moment before he opens them again. “I’m sorry,” he says.   
“You should be,” Frank mumbles. He turns his face, kissing Gerard’s palm. “Don’t ever do that again, please?”  
“I won’t,” Gerard promises, drawing closer. “I have you back, and that’s all I care about, okay?”

Frank sighs as he leans forward, kissing Gerard. His hand brushes against Gerard’s upper arm, making Gerard wince. Frank draws back guiltily.   
“I hurt you,” he whispers. “I hurt you, didn’t I?”  
“It’s nothing,” Gerard says.   
“No, what did I do?” Frank moves toward him. “Gerard, how badly did I hurt you?”  
Gerard grabs his hand before he can see. “Frankie, it’s fine. I’m fine. You didn’t.”  
Frank shakes his head. “There was so much blood, I remember it. What did I do to you? I hurt you, didn’t I?”  
“I hurt you first,” Gerard whispers. “I took your memories.”  
“That’s not your fault,” Frank says automatically. “You weren’t in control—”  
“Neither were you.” He reaches over, taking Frank’s hand. “I promise, I don’t blame you at all. It was my fault.”  
“Well, I don’t blame you either. It’s my fault too then,” Frank says fiercely. “It’s both of ours.” Gerard opens his mouth to protest, but Frank kisses him instead, silencing him. 

He almost wants to laugh at the absurdity of it. They are kissing in a church, in front of the altar, his hands roaming over Frank’s body. They escaped from the people hunting them, they’re free for the first time in months. Anyone could walk in, anyone could see the two of them. But Gerard doesn't care at all. He doesn’t care about anything except for Frank. 

Gerard draws back, pressing his forehead to Frank’s. “I have one last thing to tell you,” Gerard whispers.  
“What?” Frank asks.  
“I don’t know how much you remember, but my mother, she was working on a cure. I stopped her before she could give it to either of us, but if you want to be cured,” Gerard says softly. “I have the research. I have everything that you might need. You just need to say the word and I will get that for you.”  
Frank hesitates, then shakes his head. “No,” he says. “No way.”  
“You sure?” Gerard asks. “I know how much you wanted it. I know how much you wanted a normal life. I saw you with your parents, you seemed so happy.”  
Frank nods. “I’m certain,” he says. “There isn’t a cure, not really. Not for something that makes us who we are. Our powers make us different, they make us Afflicted, they turn the world against us, but I’m willing to fight it, with you.”

~&~&~&~&~

“Mom, Dad,” Frank says. “I have to tell you something.”

The two of them are standing in the Iero’s living room. It looks just as how Gerard remembers it, from last time. He reaches over, squeezing Frank’s hand. You got this. Frank smiles at Gerard’s message. 

“This is my decision and I know that you won’t agree with it, but it is my life,” Frank says. “I’m eighteen. You don’t have any control over me anymore.”  
Frank’s father sits forward. “What are you talking about?”  
Frank takes a deep breath. “I was never cured. I will never be cured.”  
“How did they release you from the treatment facility then?” his mother asks.   
“They didn’t release me,” Frank answers. “I escaped. Actually, for the second time. You don't remember the first time, because we took your memories of it.”  
“We?”  
“This is Gerard. He’s my—” Frank hesitates, glancing over at him. “He’s my boyfriend. And I know you’re gonna say that you don’t agree with that ‘lifestyle’ but I’m done with caring about your opinions.”

Frank’s mother frowns. “I thought we agreed that this is best for you. You were to be treated of your powers and—that thing, before you came home.”  
“You agreed,” Frank spits bitterly. “I never did. And news flash, there is no cure. Not for being Afflicted, not for being bisexual, not for anything that makes me, me. And if you won’t accept it, I’m sorry, but I’m going.”   
“Going?”  
“I’m leaving,” Frank says. “I’m going with Gerard. We’re getting out of here. I love him and he loves me. It’s all we need. We can take care of ourselves. We don’t need anyone else anymore.”  
“Frank, can you just calm down? We can talk about this later. Right now, I can call the treatment place—”  
“I’m never going back there,” Frank yells. “We barely got out alive, I’m never going back there.”  
“Okay,” his mother holds up her hands. “We won’t make you. Just please stay—”  
“Don’t tell me to stay,” Frank seethes. “I’ve made up my mind, I made it up a long time ago. There’s nothing you can say that will change it. So fuck you.”

Frank storms out of the room, the door slamming behind him. Gerard moves to follow him, when someone grabs his arm.   
“Will you please,” Frank’s father says. “Tell him that he is still welcome home if he ever decides to come back. Perhaps, one day, he’ll come to his senses.”  
I doubt it,” Gerard says, and softer. “It’s not him who has to come to his senses. You are his parents. It’s your job to accept him and love him for who he is, no matter what.”  
Frank’s father hesitates. “Perhaps one day.”  
“One day,” Gerard echoes. “Better late than never.” He turns to go.  
“Do you love him?”  
Gerard glances back. “Of course. With everything. I’ve given my life for him several times and I’d do it a million times more just to see him happy.”  
Frank’s father nods. “Take care of him, I don’t agree with it, or any of this, but please take care of him.”  
“I will,” Gerard answers. “Of course I will. Thank you.”

He shuts the door of the car, glancing over to the passenger’s seat where Frank is slumped against the window.   
“You okay?”  
Frank shudders. “That was terrible.”  
“Then what do you say we get out of here?” Gerard asks.   
A grin flickers over Frank’s lips. “I’d love that.”


	94. All The City Fires

#### Frank

A week later, Frank stands before a house, _their house_ , one that they now own. The house is beautiful, located in the middle of the sprawling woods, mountains looming in the distance on each side.  
“It’s amazing,” Frank says. “I love it.”  
“And it’s ours,” Gerard replies. “Home sweet home.”

They now have a place to truly call their own. They finally have a home. 

Gerard calls Ray that night, explaining the whole story, Frank curled up beside him as Gerard does so. He listens to the soothing sound of Gerard’s voice, hearing him laugh every so often as Frank dozes off. 

It’s not perfect, it’s far from that. Frank still wakes up in the middle of the night, screaming and soaked in sweat. But Gerard is there, there to comfort him, wrap him in his arms and hold Frank until he falls back asleep. Every time he sees Gerard’s scars, sees his own, he has the urge to run and flee. He’s reminded of his powers, of what he did to Gerard, of what Gerard did to him. All he can think about is the anger that pulsed through his veins, the way that he wanted to kill Gerard in that moment, and how Gerard almost let him. 

In his dreams, he kills Gerard, over and over again. His powers, Gerard’s powers, they are terrifying. He’s back in the Facility every night, no longer Frank, but M-74, a number, stripped of his humanity, of everything that makes him who he is. Frank sees himself, the loss of his memories, the empty shell that he became, trying to sort out the pieces again. He sees his parents, the disappointment and fear on their faces when they see him. Every night, Frank is reminded of who he is. 

Frank shudders, sliding out of bed like he always does, tiptoeing across the now silent room toward the desk in the corner. He doesn’t have to turn on a light to find the documents, running his fingers over the words in the darkness. The cure documents. What would make him human again, what would save him. He knows that it’s no good, but he stares at them, night after night, wondering if he should cure himself or not. 

“What are you doing?” Frank jumps, dropping the papers as a light flickers on behind him. Gerard is sitting up in their bed, watching him.   
“Nothing,” Frank kneels down, picking up the papers with shaking hands. “Go back to sleep.” He can tell that Gerard has caught sight of what Frank was looking at though.   
There’s a rustle as Gerard comes over, wrapping his arms around Frank’s shoulders. “You should have told me,” he whispers. “Why didn’t you tell me earlier?”  
“I don’t want it,” Frank protests. “I don’t. I don’t want to be cured, I was just looking at them. I don’t—”  
“It’s okay if you do,” Gerard murmurs. “It’s okay. I’ll do that for you.” 

Frank gazes at him in the dim light. Gerard’s eyes are filled with worry and concern as he watches Frank and Frank is struck with the realization. Gerard loves him. It doesn’t matter whether Frank is Afflicted or if he’s human, he knows that Gerard will always love him. No matter what Frank did to him, no matter what will happen, Gerard won’t care. He is willing to love Frank both with his powers and without them, because he loves Frank for who he is.   
“No,” Frank says finally. “No, I want to get rid of the cure.”  
“Are you sure?” Gerard asks. “If you want to be cured, that’s okay. It’s really—”  
Frank kisses him softly. “I want to do this.”

Surrounded by darkness, Frank stares at the cure documents in his hand, kneeling in the backyard before the fire pit.   
“Are you sure about this?” Gerard asks. “We can keep them, you know. You don’t have to make a decision today. We can do it tomorrow or any day after that, it doesn’t matter.”  
Frank shakes his head. No. He wants to get rid of the temptation. “It’s best if we destroy them.” Because he doesn’t even want to be cured anymore. He’s not broken, he never was. These powers are a gift, not a curse like he always wanted to believe. Nothing can cure him because there is nothing he needs to be cured of. He is proud of his powers, will be proud of them, will learn to be proud of them.

Frank watches as Gerard takes out a lighter, holding it out to him.   
“Do you want to do the honors?” Gerard asks. “Again you don’t have to—”  
Frank kisses him, shutting him up. “Yes,” he says, taking it and flicking it. The flames flicker before they catch onto the sides of the paper, burning, smoke rising into the darkening sky. Frank lets out a sigh of relief, leaning his head back against Gerard’s chest. There is no more cure. It’s done. 

“Do you ever think we’ll see your mother again?” he asks Gerard.  
Gerard shakes his head. “I doubt it. She made it pretty clear that I’ll never see her again, and I’m fine with that.”  
“She still loves you.”  
“I doubt that,” Gerard sighs.   
“In her own way, I think she does,” Frank turns toward him. “She gave you this, didn’t she? She left you money, a house, anything you might need.”  
“She tried to kill us.”  
“She tried to cure us because she thought that is what we needed.”  
“Your parents still love you,” Gerard points out.   
Frank shrugs. “I don’t think so.”  
“They do,” Gerard says. “They’ll come around, at some point.”  
Frank pokes him. “So will your mom.”  
Gerard smiles. “One day,” he murmurs. “Perhaps, one day.”

Frank kisses him, slinging his legs over Gerard’s. Gerard kisses him back, his arm wrapping around Frank’s waist. His other hand brushes against Frank’s cheek, cupping the back of his neck as he pulls away, pressing their foreheads together.   
“I love you,” he whispers.   
“I love you too,” Frank replies. 

Then Gerard is leading him up the stairs, through their house, up to their bedroom. Frank tangles his hands in Gerard’s hair, pressing against him, the two of the falling backward on the bed, him kneeling over Gerard. 

“We don’t have to,” Gerard says, breaking apart for a moment. “If you're not ready, we don’t have to.”  
“I want to,” Frank replies. “Gee, I want to.”  
“You sure?” Gerard props himself up, gazing up at Frank in the darkness. “I don’t want to pressure you or anything.”   
“You’re not,” Frank whispers, running his fingers over Gerard’s face. “Kiss me?”  
Gerard does so. “Tell me when to stop, okay?” he whispers. 

Gerard’s hand slips up his shirt, his hand cold against Frank’s warm skin as he pushes Frank’s shirt over his head before tugging off his own. Frank runs his fingers over the long scar across Gerard’s stomach, then the one across his upper arm.   
“I’m sorry,” Frank says. “I’m so sorry.”  
Gerard kisses him. “Hey, stop it. No blaming yourself, okay?”  
Frank gives him a look. “I know you still blame yourself. Hypocrite. I’ll stop if you stop okay?”  
Gerard rolls his eyes. “Okay,” he whispers, rolling over, pinning Frank beneath him. 

Gerard kisses him slowly, his lips soft against Frank’s. He kisses over Frank’s jawline and down his neck, planting a kiss in the hollow of his throat, Frank gripping onto the blankets as he does so.   
“God,” he gasps. “Gerard—”  
“I love you,” Gerard whispers. “All of you. I love you so much.”  
Frank only moans in response, his fingers tightening in Gerard’s hair. Gerard gazes down at him, illuminated by the dim light shining in through the opposite window.   
“I love you,” he whispers. “I love you so much. I love everything about you, okay? No matter what.”  
And Frank can’t help but smile in response, happy, truly happy. For the first time, he feels safe and loved, and that’s all that he’s ever needed.


	95. Be A Burnin' Star If It Takes All Night

### Location: There’s a safe place to call home  
Time: Whenever you need it.  
Subject: For the runaways and the outcasts. For the escapees and those in need.  
Notes: We’ll never surrender, we’ll keep on fighting. Because it’s our duty to do so.  
_Love, Gerard and Frank_

  


#### Gerard

The next morning, Gerard stands in the bathroom, a towel draped loosely over his shoulders as he waits for the fogged mirror in front of him to clear. His hands are stained red, but he doesn’t care as he looks over his new hair. 

The others had been disguises, but red was bold. It is a statement. One that proclaims to the world that they aren’t afraid anymore. He’s done with hiding, he’s done with running, from himself and others. This is who he is and he isn’t afraid to show it. No more hiding. 

It’s not going to be easy, he knows that. In no way is it going to be a simple task. This threat may be over, but Gerard knows that there will be many, many more to follow. There will always be people who fear or hate him and Frank and the rest of the Afflicted for what they are. He may not be able to change other people’s feelings, but he can change his own. No more fear, not of himself, not of anyone.

“Red?” Frank asks, sitting up in bed as Gerard exits the bathroom.  
Gerard smiles. “Do you like it?” he asks as he sits down on the side of the bed.  
A grin bursts over Frank’s face. “I fucking love it,” he says. “It suits you.”  
“Thought it was time to redye it,” Gerard shrugs. “It was the only color left.”  
Frank reaches over, twirling a strand with his finger. “I like it,” he grins. “I really do. It does fit you.”  
“I’m done with hiding,” Gerard says. “I’m done with running, done with not having a place to call home.”  
“Same.” Frank leans forward, propping himself up on his elbows. “What are you thinking?”  
“A long time ago, you gave me an idea,” Gerard says. “You said we should make a place, a home for people like us. And I think we should do that. We have the resources. We can give them a place to call home, one that we never had. We could rescue other Afflicted, the others that I know that are trapped in the Facilities. We can make the world a better place.”  
Frank smiles slowly at him. “I would love that,” he says. “And not just for the Afflicted, we can help people like us too, outcasts and runaways, people turned away from their homes.”  
“We will have to be prepared,” Gerard warns. “I have no clue what the universe will throw at us next. But we’ll get through that, and the next challenge, and the one after that.”  
“It will be hard,” Frank says. “But I’m willing to try, if you are.”  
“As long as you’re with me,” Gerard smiles. “I think that it will all be okay.”  
“Back into the action, then?” Frank grins. “Can’t wait.”

~&~&~&~&~

_One year later:_

Gerard kneels in the darkness, frozen to the bone from the half melted snow and puddles that cover the ground. The trees stretch their leafless limbs up to the sky overhead, the breeze making the branches rattle. He leans against the wet bark of an oak tree, wishing he had brought a jacket with him when he left the house this morning. Oh well. Frank was going to murder him, yelling about hypothermia or something along those lines. 

He glances around the corner at the Facility, at the high barbed wire fence that surrounds the desolate field and concrete walls of the building. There’s an opened window along the wall, one that Gerard is certain wasn’t open when he got here this morning. 

Mud squelches beneath his sneakers as he creeps forward, trying to get a better look. The front door is brightly lit as always, the dark shadows the guards milling around inside. Gerard takes another step forward, freezing as he sees three shapes slip around the side of the building. 

It’s hard to make out in the darkness, but he can see the blue coloring of their uniforms, the black paint across their backs. _Afflicted. They’re here._ All the other leads that he and Frank had followed had been useless, ending in nothing, all of them dead ends. Wherever he goes, Gerard keeps an eye out for his mother, but there is no trace of her. She truly is gone. 

Gerard can’t help but smile as he sees two of them hold hands as they rocket into the air toward the open window. The remaining Afflicted turns, his gaze landing on Gerard, though Gerard knows that the boy can’t make him out at the distance. 

Gerard waits in silence as the last two fly through the window, shutting it behind them. He turns away from the building, slipping further into the woods as he pulls out his phone. With frozen fingers, he dials Frank’s number. 

Frank picks up on the second ring.  
“Hey.”  
“I found them,” Gerard whispers.  
“Really? I found one too,” Frank answers. “Can you get back here now? We have to hurry. They caught him too.”  
Gerard hesitates, glancing back at the Facility and the window the boys had disappeared into. “Yeah. I’m on my way.”  
“Meet at the edge of Route 5,” Frank says. “I’ll see you there in ten.”

As he runs through the woods, he smiles to himself, exhilaration flowing through him. It’s really happening. They are doing this, what they always dreamed of. One step closer to their freedom. 

Gerard catches sight of Frank running up to him.  
“They’ll be coming in a moment,” Frank pants. Gerard follows him toward the road, the two of them standing side by side in the center, hands linked, watching as the truck speeds toward them. 

“Ready for another fight?” Gerard whispers.  
“I thought you’d never ask,” Frank answers. “Let’s do this.”

They can do this, Gerard realizes. They really can. First, this Afflicted, then the ones in the Facility, then who knows? If they have to take on the world, they will, just to gain freedom for themselves and others. But right now, he has all that he needs, Frank standing with him, facing their enemies, beneath the sky glowing with stars. 

**The End**

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I can't believe this is the end. Thank you so much for reading, commenting, leaving kudos, and for all the support! I hope you enjoyed it! if you enjoyed it, feel free to check out my other work.


End file.
